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Psychological Review 

















Volume 2. 1895. 




Copyright, 1895, by MACMILLAW * Co. 



Alphabetical indeces of names and subjects will be found at the end of the volume. 



Hermann von Helmholtz and the New Psychology: C. STUMPF . x 
The Theory of Emotion (II) : The Significance of Emotions : JOHN 


The Muscular Sense and its Location in the Brain Cortex: M. 


A Location Reaction Apparatus : G. W. FITZ 37 

The Knowiug of Things Together: WILLIAM JAMES .... 10$ 
Contributions from the Psychological Laboratory of Columbia Col- 
lege (III). Experiments on Dermal Sensations: HAROLD 
GRIPPING. The After- Image Threshold: S. I. FRANZ. . 125 
Normal Defects of Vision in the Fovea: CHRISTINE LADD FRANKLIN 137 
Proceedings of the Third Annual Meeting of the American Psycho- 
logical Association, Princeton, 1894. 149 

Preliminary Report on Imitation : JOSIAH ROYCE 217 

.Studies from the Princeton Laboratory (I-^V) 236 

Memory for Square-Size : J. MARK BALDWIN and W. J. 

SHAW 236 

Further Experiments on Memory for Square- Size: H. C. 

WARREN and W. J. SHAW 239 

The Effect of Size-Contrast upon Judgments of Position in the 

Retinal Field: J. MARK BALDWIN 244 

Types of Reaction : J. MARK BALDWIN 259 

Sensations of Rotation : H. C. WARREN 237 

The 'Haunted Swing 'Illusion: H. C. WOOD 277 

Heat- Sensations in the Teeth: H. R. MARSHALL 278 

The Psychology of Pain: C. A. STRONG 329 

Experimental Induction of Automatic Processes 348 



Wellesley College Psychological Studies: directed by MARY W. 


Dr. Jastroui on Community of Ideas of Men and Women : 


Prevalence of Par -amnesia : MARGARET B. SIMMONS . . . 367 

Sensory Stimulation by Attention : J. G. HIBBEN 369 

Practical Computation of the Median : E. W. SCRIPTURE . . . 376 

The Second Year at the Yale Laboratory : E. W. SCRIPTURE . . 379 
Some Observations on the Anomalies of Self -Consciousness (/) : 


On Dreaming of the Dead: HAVELOCK ELLIS 458 

Emotion, Desire and Interest : Descriptive: S. F. McLENNAN . 462 

Reaction Time According to Race : R. MEADE BACHE .... 475 
The Confusion of Function and Content in Mental Analysis : D. S. 


The Origin of a ' Thing ' and its Nature : J. MARK BALDWIN . 551 
Some Observations on Anomalies on Self -Consciousness (II): JOSIAH 

ROYCE 574 

The Perception of Two Points not the Space- Threshold : GUY 

TAWNY 585 


Mind and Body: Paul Shorey 43. 

Attention as Intensifying Sensation: H. M. Stanley. ... 53 

Pleasure-Pain and Emotion: H. R. Marshall 57 

A Comment: E. B. Titchener 64 

The Sensations are not the Emotion: G. M. Stratton . . . 173 

A Correction: W. J 174 

Recent Developments in the Theory of Emotion: D. Irons . 279 

A Reply: Shadworth Hodgson 285 

A Notice: Hugo Mtinsterberg 286 

The New Psychology in Undergraduate Work : H. K. Wolfe . 382 

A Rejoinder: G. S. Fullerton 388 

Shadows of Blood- Vessels upon the Retina: C. Ladd Franklin 392 

A Communication: G. T. Ladd 394 

A Notice: H. Nichols 397 

Pain Nerves: H. Nichols 487 

Professor Watson on Reality and Time: J. Mark Baldwin . . 490 

Physical Pain: H. R. Marshall . . . , 594 

A Case of Subjective Pain : J. H. Claiborne 599 



Hallucination and Telepathy (Parish's Ueber Trugwahrneh- 
mungen, Podmore's Apparitions and Thought-Transfer- 
ence, Sidgwick's Report on Census of Hallucinations): 
William James 65 

Ethical (Seth's Study of Ethical Principles, Hodge's Kan- 
tian Epistemology and Theism, Sharp's The Esthetic 
Element in Morality) : J. G. Hibben, R. B. Johnson, L. 
J nes 7S 3 20 43, 5 23 6 34 

Neurology: H. H. D., Adolph Meyer, H. C. Warren \ ?8 ' I94 ' 3 9 

( 413, 512, 618 

Vision: C. Ladd Franklin, E. B. Delabarre, J. McK. C. \ 84 ' 3I2 ' 4l6 

516, 627 

Taste: F. Kiesow , 89 

Experimental (Binet's Psychologic des Grands Calculateurs, 

Travaux du Daboratoire de la Sorbonne) : H. C. Warren . 92 

Recognition and Association: M. W. Calkins 94 

Logic and Epistemology: J. H. Tufts, G.S.F., A.B. "... 96 

Anthropology: D. G. Brinton 100 

Educational and Child Psychology: Earl Barnes, F. Tracy 

101, 190, 507 

Degeneration and Genius (Dallemagne's De'ge'nere's, Lombroso's 
Entartung u. Genie, Nordau's Degeneration, Hirsch's 

Genie u. Entartung) : W. J 287 

Philosophical Remains of George Groom Robertson; J. S. . 175 
Wundt's Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology: A. 

Kirschmann 179 

Ladd's Primer of Psychology: G. S. F 180 

Deussen's Elements of Metaphysics: A. T. Ormond .... 181 
Hyslop's Elements of Ethics: A. T. Ormond . . . . . . 184 

Johnson's Universal Cyclopedia, I.-V. : J. D 189 

Evolution and Biology (Osborn's From the Greeks to Darwin, 
Willey's Amphioxus, Jordon's Factors in Organic Evolu- 
tion, Gould's Dictionary of Biology, Collins' Epitome of 
the Synthetic Philosophy): J. M. B., A. B., H. C. War- 
ren 189, 413 

Hearing: F. Angell 197 

Attention and Memory: H. N. Gardiner 199 

Reaction-Time: J. McK. C 200 

Judgment and Belief : G. M. Duncan 20^ 

Pathological (Ziehen's Psychiatric, Dumas' Me"lankolie, Char- 
cot's Clinique des maladies): William Noyes, A.B. . . 209 


General (Conta's Theorie d'Ondulation, Pioger's La Vie et la 

Pense"e, Vignoli's Peregrinazioni) : A. B., J. Phillippe, E. 

A. Pace, C. W. Hodge 295, 612 

Ladd's Philosophy of Mind: A. C. Armstrong, Jr 299 

Hyslop's Syllabus of Psychology: R.B.Johnson 303 

Mach's Popular Scientific Lectures: T. J. McCormack . . . 304 

Social Psychology: J. H. Tufts 305, 407, 616 

Memory and Attention : H. N. Gardiner 317 

Pathological: H. H. D., A. B., F. Kiesow 325, 637 

Watson's Comte, Mill, and Spencer: H. N. Gardiner . . . 398 

Morgan's Introduction to Comparative Psychology: G. H. Mead 399 

L'Anne'e Psychologique: J. M. B 402 

Volkmann's Lehrbuch der Psychologic: J. M. B 403 

Riehl's Science and Metaphysics: A. H. Lloyd 404 

Criminology (Kurella's Naturgeschichte des Verbrechers) : J. 

G. Hume 408 

Consciousness and Imagination: E. C. Sanford, A. B., H. N. 

Gardiner 419 

Experimental: H. C. Warren, W. J. Shaw, L. Witmer . . . 421 

Movement: A. B 428 

Eraser's Locke's Essay: J. M. B 495 

Brandt's Beneke : G. T. W. Patrick 496 

Bosanquet's Essentials of Logic: J. G. Hibben 498 

Ktilpe's Einleitung in die Philosophic: C. H. Judd .... 501 

Marshall's Esthetic Principles: A. T. Ormond 504 

Anthropometry: J. McK. C 510 

Pathology: W. J., F. Kiesow 529 

Balfour's Foundations of Belief: G. M. Duncan 600 

Sergi's Dolore e Piacere : W. J 601 

Wundt's Logik der Geisteswissenschaften: C. H. Judd . . . 604 

Scripture's Thinking, Feeling, Doing: J. R. Angell .... 606 
Schwartz* Umwalzungen der Wahrnehmungshypothesen : W. 

R. Newbold 609 

Haeckel's Monism: C. W. Hodge 611 

Skin-Sensations: S. F. McLennan, C. H. Judd 630 

Habit and Association : H. N. Gardiner 631 

Maudsley's Pathology of Mind: J. M. B 637 

New Books 103, 214, 328, 431, 533, 640 

Notes 104, 216, 328, 432, 534, 641 

VOL. II. No. i. JANUARY, 1895. 




University of Berlin. 

Since the death of Darwin, the loss of no one in the sci- 
entific world has made such a deep impression as that of 
Helmholtz. And this is in keeping with that esteem and 
admiration which in an ever-increasing measure is accorded 
to his name in the Old and the New World as well, through- 
out all scientific circles, and in that more practical sphere of 
life which in the last decade especially has become so largely 
dependent upon the services of science. From the early 
beginning of his career, from the time of the anatomical and 
chemical studies of his youth, all his researches were di- 
rected towards high ends, and were crowned with great suc- 
cess. Whenever he smote the rock of nature, there gushed 
forth the living waters of knowledge. There have always 
been and are well-rounded, disciplined minds, authors, 
philosophers, and others, who are able to speak with easy 
assurance concerning everything in this world, and of much 
else besides. But they are not for the most part minds 
which are themselves productive; they are, on the contrary, 
mere imitators and makers of books. There have always been, 
and are, moreover, also men of marked scientific note who 
have proved productive in various widely divergent fields of 
knowledge ; as, for instance, Thomas Young, who in Optics, 
no less than in the science of Hieroglyphics, rendered con- 
siderable service to his time; or, in a similar way, H. Grass- 
mann. But a truly scientific spirit of extraordinary versa- 


tility, and yet at the same time evincing complete unity of 
organization, with all its ideas harmoniously connected one 
with another, such the world has indeed produced, but only 
once in the century. 

It would hardly be possible for any one man to-day to 
succeed in understanding all of Helmholtz' investigations 
equally well. But each will find a peculiar satisfaction in 
recalling the special impulse which he has experienced in his 
own department through the inspiration of Helmholtz. And 
the representatives of Physiological Psychology should feel 
themselves impelled to such a retrospect, since it is to that 
science that Helmholtz dedicated himself at the zenith of his 
power. The two works which have largely rendered his 
name illustrious, and from which there has proceeded an 
incalculable stimulus to other men, belong to our especial 
province. Without in the least depreciating the thoroughly 
original and fundamental contributions of E. H. Weber, 
Fechner, and Lotze, nevertheless it must be acknowledged 
that these two works, both on account of the scientific con- 
sequences which have followed them, and of the general and 
wide-spread knowledge of their contents throughout the 
scientific world, have more than all others served to bridge 
the gulf between Physiology and Psychology a bridge 
across which thousands of other men now constantly come 
and go. 

Like Dubois-Reymond, Briicke, Ludwig, Henle, Vir~ 
chow, Helmholtz also came from the school of Johannes 
Miiller. The latter who, as early as 1822, when still a youth 
of twenty-one, had defended the thesis * Nemo psychologus 
nisi physiologus,' had early broken loose from the chains of 
the Nature-philosophy of the school of Schelling, although 
without repudiating altogether the spirit of philosophy. He 
allied himself with Kant, Spinoza, Herbart. A certain taste 
for philosophy, at least a friendly disposition towards phi- 
losophy, was transmitted to his pupils. But in addition to 
such an affinity we must also note the mode of exact obser- 
vation of physical phenomena and the experimental method, 
which were likewise introduced through Miiller into Ger- 
man physiology. As a consequence of this method of re- 


search, the scholars rejected the theory of ' Vital Force/ 
to which the master still adhered ; and in this highly import- 
ant reform of the fundamental conceptions of organic life, 
fraught with such weighty consequences, lay the principal 
difference between the new and the old epochs. Helmholtz' 
first work of the pioneer order, upon the ' Conservation of 
Energy,' represents this new spirit of inquiry. In the in- 
comparably interesting and stimulating discourse delivered 
at the celebration of his seventieth birthday, he himself drew 
attention to the fact that his sole object in this early work 
had been the critical examination and classification of phe- 
nomena in the interests of physiology. On the other hand, 
the pupils of Mtiller maintained what was to them the funda- 
mental law in the theory of sense-perception, the doctrine 
of the specific energies of the nerves, although their formu- 
lation of it did not include the Kantian elements which were 
attached to the law as expounded by J. Miiller. Helmholtz 
not only accepted the doctrine in general, but, as is well 
known, applied it in detail in the spheres of Optics and 
Acoustics, and maintained the diversity of the specific ener- 
gies corresponding to differences of quality within one and 
the same sense. A third generation is now empanelled upon 
this very hook. Whatever we may wish to substitute for 
the doctrine, we still find ourselves, in my opinion, involved 
in great uncertainties and obscurities. But that is beside 
the point here. 

Intimately associated with the above-mentioned the- 
ory, as far as the facts go, although not necessarily con- 
nected with it, there arose with Miiller, and also in his 
school, the clear and emphatic consciousness of the incom- 
patibility of perception, and of psychological events in gen- 
eral, with the processes of the outer world. Miiller had 
expressed himself, it is true, only in a guarded manner con- 
cerning the nature of the soul and its relation to the body ; 
moreover, his ideas upon this subject can be made to agree 
with those of his followers as little as their's in turn with 
each other. But in two respects at least they were wholly 
at one : that psychical activities occur only in strict cor- 
relation with the physical, and yet that they are throughout 

4 C. STUMP F. 

peculiar both in their nature, and in the minor taws of 
connection to which they are subject. Such formulas as the 
following were wholly foreign to their thinking: that con- 
sciousness is mere appearance, or really nothing (as the 
modern followers of so-called ' Parallelism ' often express 
themselves in curious inconsistency. Indeed, the doctrine 
of the complete reality and unique peculiarity of the psy- 
chical phenomena may be regarded as a characteristic feature 
of that epoch. 

While J. Miiller, after the appearance of his Handbuch 
der Physiologic, turned his attention more to the develop- 
ment of Comparative Anatomy, Helmholtz' investigations, 
in accordance with his natural gifts, took quite another direc- 
tion. He was naturally qualified to be a mathematical phy- 
sicist of the first rank. While his class was reading Cicero 
in the Gymnasium, he had been computing the path of light 
beams through the telescope, and establishing certain propo- 
sitions which were later used by him in his invention of the 
Ophthalmoscope. He then became a physician for wholly 
practical reasons, although by no means contrary to his own 
tastes ; yet after the completion of his great works on psy- 
chophysics he again turned his attention to mathematical 
physics. His most essential reforms in the theories of hear- 
ing and sight are due to his command of mathematical prin- 
ciples, in connection, to be sure, with an unusual inclination 
and aptitude for psychological analysis and with an extraor- 
dinary inventive talent for the construction of apparatus. 
In the latter respect, he himself makes the interesting 
observation, that his youthful predisposition for geo- 
metrical methods of treatment was developed in the course 
of his many experiments into a kind of mechanical intuition ; 
he could feel, as it were, how the angles and lines distribute 
themselves in a mechanical contrivance, a peculiarity which 
is also often found in experienced mechanics and machinists. 

The < Physiological Optics ' appeared in parts during the 
decade, 1856-66. The studies for this undertaking natu- 
rally extended to a much earlier date. The invention of the 
Ophthalmoscope in 1851 was already an incidental fruit of 
his exhaustive studies in dioptrics. Then followed the sev- 


eral publications, upon the Theory of Color, upon Accom- 
modation, upon the Telestereoscope. The great activ- 
ity in optical investigations, especially in the fifties and six- 
ties (consider, for instance, such names at Briicke, Dove, 
Listing, Volkmann, Chevreul, Plateau, Fechner, Brewster, 
Wheatstone, Maxwell), makes the high standard which 
Helmholtz' work attained more easily comprehended, and 
increases our astonishment at the intellectual force which 
was able to gather under new and quickening points of view 
this wealth of manifoldly divergent results, both native and 
foreign, and work them into a consistent whole. We must 
not overlook the fact also that Helmholtz took scarcely any 
results from others without independent verification. Then 
the subject of Dioptrics, which had been to a certain extent 
already written out, received thorough revision, both theo- 
retical and experimental, at his hands. The methods were 
perfected in both their applications (Opthalmometer, Micro- 
optometer), all the constants in the investigation of the eye 
more accurately determined, and the mechanism of accom- 
modation cleared up in its essential features. 

In the subsequent portions of the work in which Helm- 
holtz establishes the peculiar distinction between sensation, 
(as of color) and perception (as of space), the following form 
the principal features : the revival and detailed elaboration 
of Young's Theory of Color the first comprehensive dis- 
cussion of the complex relations of color sensations and 
the development of the empirical theory of space. The two 
theories have passed into nearly all the text-books of Physi- 
ology, and have had numberless popularizations; the very 
best, indeed, of these being by Helmholtz himself, whose 
Popular-wissenschaftliche Vortrdge call out our ever-increas- 
ing admiration. Throughout the extensive range of the 
popular science literature of Germany, there are very few 
counterparts to these lectures. They are unpretentious and 
yet, while in good taste, sufficiently ornate ; they preserve 
as admirably the golden mean between excessive diffuseness, 
on the one hand, and too rigid concentration on the other ; 
they are equally free from anecdotes and rhetorical extrava- 
gances, and especially free from the common method of first 

6 C. STUMP F. 

caricaturing old or opposed views in order to set them aside 
with superior wisdom as childish and absurd. 

Since then, as is well known, the theory of color has 
been zealously attacked from many quarters, and other theo- 
ries, especially that of Hering, have been opposed to it. 
The decision in this controversy is still in abeyance. It 
would not be becoming for me to enter the lists for either 
side in this connection. To psychologists, however, the 
question should present itself more strongly than heretofore, 
whether the so-called composite colors, in distinction from 
the primary colors, really result from a number of simulta- 
neous sensations, after the analogy of a chord of tones, or 
whether, on the other hand, these combined color appear- 
ances which originate in one and the same place on the 
retina, constitute an absolutely simple sensation. If I un- 
derstand them aright, both Helmholtz and Hering uphold 
the former view, while the majority of psychologists sup- 
port the latter, and there has been no adequate discussion 
of the matter. For each investigator seems to consider his 
own view self-evident. 

An especially attractive part of Helmholtz' theory of 
color, from a psychological point of view, is his explanation 
of simultaneous contrast. He here introduces a principle 
which he also turned to good account on other occasions: 
that, by virtue of our past experiences, we often come to 
judge and designate objects of sense as quite different from 
what they really appear to us at the moment to be. 

Notwithstanding the masterly elucidation of this princi- 
ple, the conviction has now become quite general, princi- 
pally through the exhaustive researches of Hering, that 
Helmholtz, through a combination of circumstances, was led 
to resort to an artificial explanation instead of postulating a 
simple reciprocal action of contiguous nerve-elements upon 
one another. This leads us to see that it is the sensation 
itself which is altered, not the judgment alone. Neverthe- 
less, this principle of explanation is so far forth of value, and 
it remains an important fact that deceptions respecting the 
nature of sensation which can be very well distinguished from 
real illusions, are often brought about through experience. 


It was also in this book that Helmholtz first made use of 
* unconscious inference ' in his explanations, although the 
idea and the theory itself were first definitely stated in con- 
nection with his theory of space. The process through which 
such false judgments, as that of color-contrast, are produced, 
seemed to him to be analogous to the process of true infer- 
ence. The misuse which many naturalists and philosophers, 
who had felt the influence of Schopenhauer, made of this 
theory, to bolster up various shallow views, gave Helm- 
holtz an occasion later to revise his view and to substitute 
for unconscious inference a process of association, which cer- 
tainly is truer to the psychological facts. Moreover, we 
must take into consideration the fact that Helmholtz, in the 
Physiologische Optik, expressed himself guardedly and with 
some reservation concerning unconscious inference. He 
says: " Although, indeed, the similarity of these psychical 
phenomena with those of conscious inference has been dis- 
puted, and perhaps will continue to be disputed, still the 
similarity of the results is not at all in doubt." 

In the theory of space perception Helmholtz departs 
wholly, as is well known, from Joh. Miiller, and erects an 
imposing structure on quite a different plan. Miiller had 
made the perception of the third dimension a matter of 
empirical judgment, but he had not determined the neces- 
sary moments of the process precisely. It was probably 
the investigations of Wheatstone in single vision with non- 
identical points and the observations of single vision in 
certain squint-eyed persons, together with Lotze's ingenious 
disquisition upon the space-problem, which gave rise to the 
first tendency in this direction. Helmholtz opposes the 
empirical to the nativist theory. Even those who are of the 
opinion that no one can be wholly just to the established 
psychological facts without certain concessions to the theory 
of nativism will, nevertheless, still most readily acknowledge 
the credit which Helmholtz has won for himself in his treat- 
ment of this cardinal question. The antithesis between 
nativism and empiricism has still more extended bearings; 
it appears in nearly every psychological question ; it charac- 
terizes entire schools which have been opposed to one 


another, especially in English psychology, for a long time. 
The exhaustive investigation of the materials for the theory 
of space from an empirical standpoint has greatly lightened 
the critical examination of the same for all subsequent 
thinkers. Always in the habit of searching for certain and 
clear criteria, Helmholtz sought some characteristic mark to 
distinguish between that which is a real sensation and that 
which arises from some supplementary experience. That is r 
he recognizes as sensation only that part of our intuition 
which can not be accounted for through assignable experi- 
ence processes, which might have produced a contrary 

Another principle of great value, also, to acoustics, con- 
cerns the discrimination of simultaneous sensations. We 
have been accustomed to regard a total of sensations con- 
stantly presented together as a common sign for a single 
object, and the discrimination of these sensations is thereby 
rendered more difficult. This principle he applied espe- 
cially to the explanation of experiences of single-vision. The 
Physiologische Optik, as is well known, contains also his 
philosophical theory of the relation of our consciousness to 
the outer world, to which Helmholtz in his Thatsachen der 
Wahrnehmung latterly returned, the theory that the a priori 
self-evident law of causation necessitates the acceptation by 
us of an outer world ; that, however, our knowledge of this 
outer world must remain essentially a symbolical one, and 
that our sensations are merely signs of what is real. On the 
occasion of his 'Jubilee,' Helmholtz spoke in quite an elegiac 
strain of the reception which these views had received at the 
hands of philosophers. Without inquiring to what extent 
the blame may be due to certain weaknesses of his represen- 
tation, or to what extent, also, to the high plane of discus- 
sion and the subtilty of his general concepts, or on the 
other hand to the dearth of clear thinking on the part of 
some at least of the philosophers who have not passed 
through the exacting discipline of physics, we are, how- 
ever, certain that all his philosophical colleagues felt 
extremely thankful to him for his gifts in this direction also. 
In my own personal opinion, at least, the theory of the 


symbolical knowledge of the outer world really hits upon 
the right conception. But be that as it may, at any rate the 
introduction of such considerations into his work, and the 
accompanying evidence of the deepest interest in philosophi- 
cal problems, has been largely instrumental in keeping alive 
and stimulating such interest among students of nature in 
all lands. 

The number of new investigations which were published 
after the appearance of the Physiologische Optik, and called 
forth by that work, made a new edition of the book desi- 
rable long ago. The author had, however, in the mean- 
time turned to other spheres of investigation, as that of 
electro-dynamics, and it was not astonishing that he decided 
only lately upon it, when it was no longer possible for 
him to give due attention to the large amount of material 
at hand. The successive parts of this work followed each 
other at ever lengthening intervals of time. The serious 
misfortune which befel the aged investigator last autumn 
upon his homeward journey from America urged him more- 
over to a careful husbanding of his strength, and so made it 
possible that he should allow the last portion of the work, 
which includes the discussion of contrast-phenomena, to 
appear with no reference to Hering's labors in this sphere. 
This will always be most deeply regretted. The half of the 
work which still remains unpublished will have to be simply 
reprinted, only perhaps with a revision of the bibliographical 

The second psycho-physical work, Lehre von den Ton- 
empfindungen, was published in 1863, during one of the inter- 
vals in the publication of the several parts of his first work. 
Studies extending through many years had preceded also in 
this field, some of which were already published, Ueber 
Klangfarbe der Vocale, Ueber Combinationstone, etc., also the 
popular lecture upon Physiological Causes of Musical Har- 
mony,' 1857, m which the outlines of the whole work were 
sketched. One can hardly picture the immense intel- 
lectual labor which the carrying out of two such literary 
projects simultaneously must have involved. However, the 
problems in the theory of sensation were reciprocally illumi- 

10 C. STUMPF. 

nated, and it was precisely the similarity of the phenomena 
in the two spheres which led Helmholtz to the common 
view-point already mentioned above. It was during the at- 
tractive period of the days of Bonn and Heidelberg that, as 
he himself afterwards related, while leisurely tramping over 
the wooded hills, these ideas flowed in upon his mind. 

Indeed this second work seems, externally in the form of 
its presentation, to betray the influence of such a happy mood 
and friendly environment. It not only treats of the funda- 
mental principles of art, but is itself truly a work of art, 
and that, too, without any flowers of rhetoric. It is confined 
to the simple unfolding of the absolutely essential features 
of the subject. His mightiest weapon, the mathematical 
calculations and the deductions from previously published 
computations, was relegated to the Appendix. In the text 
itself only the manifest principles of the theory are presented 
to the reader ; he is led step by step from the simplest truths 
of physical acoustics to their physiological conditions, until 
finally, deep in the center of the system, he is brought to the 
consideration of the musical scales and harmony, and over 
the threshold into the aesthetics of music. Here the author 
deliberately stops. 

In Acoustics, too, the achievements of Helmholtz were 
not creations out of nothing. The illustrious labors of others 
preceded them -especially Fourier's demonstration of the 
possibility of resolving any periodic vibration into a number 
of simple harmonic vibrations; Ohm's definition of simple 
tones by means of harmonic vibrations, and his corres- 
pondence with Seebeck (in which Ohm approached very near 
to the correct explanation of timbre); Seebeck's theory of 
sympathetic vibrations ; Wilhelm Weber's investigations con- 
cerning reed-pipes; Joh. Miiller's experimental studies upon 
vibrating membranes and the human voice ; Chladni's care- 
taking observations, and finally on the side of the theory 
of music, Rameau's application of the overtone to the 
theory of harmony. That the application of the theory 
of beats in the preceding century for a similar purpose 
had already been attempted, was probably not known 


to Helmholtz. But he was familiar with the the hypothe- 
sis of an isolation of tones in the cochlea held by many 
physiologists . of the preceding decade, and Harless in 
Wagner's Dictionary had in fact treated the organ of 
Corti accordingly. There is, however, a vast difference be- 
tween the expression of a thought in general terms and the 
presenting of it in its concrete setting or in its connection 
with a mass of facts, and it is a long way from eminent labors 
along single lines and from a one-sided standpoint, to the 
comprehensive, all around investigation of this entire field, 
which inspected all sides of the problem impartially, and 
went even into the depths of the history of music. The 
work has passed through four editions. Owing to the com- 
paratively small number of subsequent works, as well as to 
the almost universal acquiescence in his opinions, it was pos- 
sible to satisfy the demand for new editions without too great 
difficulty. The most essential changes concerned the signi- 
ficance of the organ of Corti (from the first to the second 
edition) and the theory of the psychological conditions of 
tone-analysis (from the third to the fourth edition). It seems 
almost a pity to have to acknowledge that even this mag- 
nificently constructed work will not in all its main features 
defy the ravages of time. This is, however, my firm convic- 
tion. The explanation of timbre, that old riddle, will, how- 
ever, remain a permanent acquisition. But whether it was 
correct to deduce timbre and consonance from one and the 
same principle, that of the overtones, and to define disso- 
nance by means of beats, that is the chief question. 

What human achievement, however, can defy time and 
know no change? Considerations of a critical nature will 
not disturb the satisfaction with which we feel that our 
century has beheld an immense advance of science, and that 
we ourselves were contemporaries of the man who accom- 
plished it. Only in the last few months has it been the 
privilege of the writer of these lines to know him. Whoever 
has been thus fortunate will always hold in lively remem- 
brance the massive head, the large, thoughtful eyes, the 
repose of manner, the modest and unpretentious bearing. 

12 C. STUMPF. 

But we shall always retain as his most valuable legacy the 
inseparable union of scientific and philosophical research, 
and the profound conception of the mental life, grounded 
throughout upon actual facts, and for that very reason the 
loftier and more truly ideal.* 

* Translated from the author's manuscript by Professor John Grier Hibben,. 
Princeton College. 



University of Chicago. 

In a preceding article l I endeavored to show that all the 
so-called expressions of emotion are to be accounted for not 
by reference to emotion, but by reference to movements 
having some use, either as direct survivals or as disturb- 
ances of teleological coordinations. I tried to show that, 
upon this basis, the various principles for explaining emo- 
tional attitudes may be reduced to certain obvious and typi- 
cal differentia within the teleological movements. In the 
present paper I wish to reconsider the James-Lange, or dis- 
charge, theory of the nature of emotion from the standpoint 
thus gained ; for if all emotions (considered as ' emotional 
seizures,' Affect* or 'feel,' as I may term it) are constituted 
by the reflexion of the teleological attitude, the motor and 
organic discharges, into consciousness, the same princi- 
ple which explains the attitude must serve to analyze the 

The fact, if it be a fact, that all ' emotional expression ' 
is a phase of movements teleologically determined, and not a 
result of pre-existent emotion, is itself a strong argument for 
the discharge theory. I had occasion to point out in my pre- 
vious article that the facts brought under the head of antith- 
esis ' and < analogous stimuli ' are absolutely unaccountable 
upon the central theory, and are matters of course upon the 
James theory. But this statement may be further general- 
ized. If every emotional attitude is referred to useful acts, 
and if the emotion is not the reflex of such act, where does 

'See this REVIEW, Sept., 1894, p. 523. 



it come in, and what is its relation to the attitude? The 
first half of the hypothesis prevents its being the antecedent 
of the attitude ; the latter half of the hypothesis precludes 
its being the consequent. If it is said that the emotion is a 
mere side issue of that central excitation (corresponding to 
the purpose) which issues in the muscular and organic 
changes, then we are entitled to ask, a priori, for some 
explanation of its unique appearance at this point, some sort 
of mechanical or teleological causa essendi ; and, a posteriori, 
to point out that, as matter of fact, every one now supposes 
that his emotion, say of anger, does have some kind of direct 
relation to his movements in fact, common usage compels 
us to speak of them as movements of anger. I think, then, 
that logic fairly demands either the surrender of the * central ' 
theory of emotion or else a refutation of the argument of 
the preceding paper, and a proof that emotional attitudes 
are to be explained by reference to emotion, and not by 
reference to acts. 

More positively, this reference to serviceable movement 
in explanation of emotional attitudes, taken in connection 
with the hypothesis that the emotional feel ' is always due 
to the return wave of this attitude, supplies a positive tool 
for the analysis of emotion in general and of particular emo- 
tions in especial. As indicating the need of a further con- 
sideration, it may be pointed out that Mr. James himself lays 
the main emphasis of his theory upon its ability to account 
for the origin of emotions, and as supplying emotion with a 
'physical basis,' not upon the psychological analysis which 
it might yield of the nature of emotional experience. Indeed, 
James definitely relegates to the background the question of 
classification, 1 saying that the question of genesis becomes 
all-important. But every theory of genesis must become a 
method of analysis and classification. The discharge theory 
does, indeed, give the coup de grace to the fixed pigeon-hole 
method of classification, but it opens the door for the genetic 
classification. In other words, it does for the emotions pre- 
cisely what the theory of evolution does in biology ; it de- 
stroys the arbitrary and subjective schemes, based on mere 

1 Psychology, Vol. II., p. 454 and p. 485. 


possession of likenesses and differences, and points to an ob- 
jective and dynamic classification based on descent from a 
given functional activity, gradually differentiated according 
to the demands of the situation. The general conclusion 
indicated regarding the nature of emotion is that : 

Emotion in its entirety is a mode of behavior which is 
purposive, or has an intellectual content, and which also 
reflects itself into feeling or Affects, as the subjective valua- 
tion of that which is objectively expressed in the idea or 
purpose. 1 

This formula, however, is no more than a putting together 
of James' theory with the revision of Darwin's principles 
attempted in the last number. If an attitude (of emotion) is 
the recurrence, in modified form, of some teleological move- 
ment, and if the specific differentia of emotional consciousness 
is the resonance of such attitude, then emotional excitation is 
the felt process of realization of ideas. The chief interest 
lies in making this formula more specific. 

In the first place, this mode of getting at it relieves Mr. 
James's statement of the admittedly paradoxical air which 
has surrounded it. I can but think that Mr. James' critics 
have largely made their own difficulties, even on the basis of 
his ' slap-dash ' statement that " we feel sorry because we cry, 
angry because we strike, afraid because we tremble." The 
very statement brings out the idea of feeling sorry, not of 
being sorry. On p. 452 (Vol. II) he expressly refers to his 
task as " subtracting certain elements of feeling from an emo- 
tional state supposed to exist in its fulness " (italics mine). 
And in his article in this REVIEW (Sept., 1894), he definitely 
states that he is speaking of an Affect^ or emotional seizure. 
By this I understand him to mean that he is not dealing with 

1 In my Psychology, e.g., p. 19 and pp. 246-249, it is laid down, quite schematic- 
ally, that feeling is the internalizing of activity or will. There is nothing novel in 
the doctrine ; in a way it goes back to Plato and Aristotle. But what first fixed my espe- 
cial attention, I believe, upon James' doctrine of emotion was that it furnishes this old 
idealistic conception of feeling, hitherto blank and unmediated, with a medium of 
translation into the terms of concrete phenomena. I mention this bit of personal his- 
tory simply as an offset to those writers who have found Mr. James' conception so 
tainted with materialism. On the historical side, it may be worth noting that a crude 
anticipation of James' theory is found in Hegel's Philosophie des Geistes, 401. 

1 6 JOHN DE WE Y. 

emotion as a concrete whole of experience, but with an abstrac- 
tion from the actual emotion of that element which gives it 
its differentia its feeling quale, its * feel.' As I understand 
it, he did not conceive himself as dealing with that state 
which we term 'being angry,' but rather with the peculiar 
' feel ' which any one has when he is angry, an element which 
may be intellectually abstracted, but certainly has no exist- 
ence by itself, or as full-fledged emotion-experience. 

What misled Mr. James' critics, I think, was not so much 
his language, as it was the absence of all attempts on his part 
to connect the emotional seizure with the other phases of the 
concrete emotion-experience. What the whole condition of 
being angry, or hopeful or sorry may be, Mr. James nowhere 
says, nor does he indicate why or how the ' feel ' of anger is 
related to them. Hence the inference either that he is con- 
sidering the whole emotion-experience in an inadequate way, 
or else as Mr. Irons took it that he is denying the very 
existence of emotion, reducing it to mere consciousness of 
bodily change as such. Certainly, even when we have ad- 
mitted that the emotional differentia, or 'feel', is the reverber- 
ation of organic changes following upon the motor response 
to stimulus, we have still to place this ' feel ' with reference 
to the other phases of the concrete emotion-experience. 
' Common sense ' and psychological sense revolt at the sup- 
posed implication that the emotional feel ' which constitutes 
so much of the meaning of our lives is a chance arrival, or a 
chance super-imposition from certain organic changes which 
happen to be going on. It is this apparently arbitrary isola- 
tion which offends. 

If, preparatory to attempting such a placing, we put 
before us the whole concrete emotional experience, we find, 
I think, that it has two phases beside that of Affect, or seizure, 
(i) It is a disposition, a mode of conduct, a way of behaving. 
Indeed, it is this practical aspect of emotion which common 
speech mainly means to refer to in its emotional terms. 
When we say that John Smith is very resentful at the treat- 
ment he has received, or is hopeful of success in business, or 
regrets that he accepted a nomination for office, we do not 
simply, or even chiefly, mean that he has a certain < feel ' 


occupying his consciousness. We mean he is in a certain 
practical attitude, has assumed a readiness to act in certain 
ways. I should not fear a man who had simply the feel ' of 
anger, nor should I sympathize with one having simply the 
feel ' of grief. 1 Grief means unwillingness to resume the 
normal occupation, practical discouragement, breaking-up 
of the normal reactions, etc., etc. Just as anger means a 
tendency to explode in a sudden attack, not a mere state 
of feeling. We certainly do not deny nor overlook the 
4 feel ' phase, but in ordinary speech the behavior side of 
emotion is, I think, always uppermost in consciousness. 
The connotation of emotion is primarily ethical, only sec- 
ondarily psychical. Hence our insulted feeling when told (as 
we hastily read it our interpretation is ' slap-dash ' rather 
than the sentence itself) that we are not angry until we strike, 
for the sudden readiness to injure another is precisely what 
we mean by anger. Let the statement read that we do not 
have the emotional seizure, the* feel ' of anger, till we strike, 
or clench our fist, or have our blood boil, &c., and the state- 
ment not only loses its insultingly paradoxical quality, but 
(unless my introspection meets a different scene from that of 
others) is verified by every passing emotion. (2) But the 
full emotional experience also always has its ' object' or intel- 
lectual content. The emotion is always about ' or toward ' 
something ; it is at ' or on account of ' something, and this 
prepositional reference is an integral phase of the single 
pulse of emotion ; for emotion, as well as the idea, comes 
as a whole carrying its distinctions of value within it. The 
child who ceases to be angry at something were it only the 
floor at last but who keeps up his kicking and screaming, 
has passed over into sheer spasm. It is then no more an 
emotion of anger than it is one of aesthetic appreciation. Dis- 

1 1 take it that this separation of ' feel ' from practical attitude is precisely what 
makes the difference between an emotional and a sentimental experience. The fact that 
the ' feel ' may be largely, though never wholly, simulated, by arousing certain organic 
excitations apart from the normal practical readiness to behave in a certain way, has 
played a sufficiently large part in our ' evangelical ' religions. The depth, in a way, 
and the hollowness, in another way, of the subjectively induced religious sentiments 
seems to me, in itself, a most admirable illustration of the truth of James* main con- 


gust, terror, gratitude, sulkiness, curiosity take all the 
emotions seriatim and see what they would be without the 
intrinsic reference to idea or object. Even the pathological 
or objectless emotion is so only to the rational spectator. To 
the experiencer (if I may venture the term) it subsumes at 
once its own object as source or aim. This feeling of depres- 
sion must have its reason ; the world is dark and gloomy ; no 
one understands me ; I have a dread disease ; I have commit- 
ted the unpardonable sin. This feeling of buoyancy must 
have its ideal reference; I am a delightful person, or one of 
the elect or have had a million dollars left me. 1 

It is perhaps at this point that the need of some recon- 
struction which will enable us to place the phases of an entire 
emotional experience becomes most urgent. In Mr. James' 
statement the experience is apparently (apparently, I say ; I 
do not know how much is due to the exigency of discussion 
which necessitates a seeming isolation) split up into three 
separate parts : First comes the object or idea which operates 
only as stimulus ; secondly, the mode of behavior taken as 
discharge of this stimulus ; third, the Affect, or emotional exci- 
tation, as the repercussion of this discharge. No such seriality 
or separation attaches to the emotion as an experience. Nor 
does reflective analysis seem to establish this order as the 
best expression of the emotion as an object of psychological 
abstraction. We might almost infer from the way Mr. 
James leaves it that he is here a believer in that atomic or 
mosaic composition of consciousness which he has so effec- 
tively dealt with in the case of intellectual consciousness. 
However this may be, Mr. James certainly supplies us, in the 
underlying motif of this chapter' on emotion, with an ade- 
quate instrument of reconstruction. This is the thought that 
the organic discharge is an instinctive reaction, not a response 
to an idea as such. 

Following the lead of this idea, we are easily brought to 
the conclusion that the mode of behavior is the primary thing, 
and that the idea and the emotional excitation are constituted at 
one and the same time ; that, indeed, they represent the tension 

1 I do not .nean, of course, that every ' pathological ' emotion creates an intellec- 
tual delusion ; but it does carry with it a changed intellectual coloring, a different 
direction of attention. 


of stimulus and response within the coordination which makes 
up the mode of behavior. 

It is sheer reflective interpretation to say that the activity 
in anger is set up by the object, if we by object mean some- 
thing consciously apprehended as object. This interpreta- 
tion, if we force it beyond a mere way of speaking into the 
facts themselves, becomes a case of the psychological fallacy. 
If my bodily changes of beating heart, trembling and run- 
ning legs, sinking in stomach, looseness of bowels, etc., fol- 
low from and grow out of the conscious recognition, qua 
conscious recognition, of a bear, then I see no way for it but 
that the bear is already a bear of which we are afraid our 
idea must be of the bear as a fearful object. But if (as Mr. 
James' fundamental idea would imply, however his lan- 
guage may read at times) this reaction is not to the bear as 
object, nor to the idea of bear, but simply expresses an in- 
stinctive coordination of two organic tendencies, then the 
case is quite different. It is not the idea of the bear, or the 
bear as object, but a certain act of seeing, which by habit, 
whether inherited or acquired, sets up other acts. It is the 
kind of coordination of acts which, brought to sensational con- 
sciousness, constitutes the bear a fearful or a laughable or 
an indifferent object. The following sentence, for example,, 
from James (this REVIEW, Vol. I. p. 518) seems to involve a 
mixture of his own theory with the one which he is engaged 
in combatting: " Whatever be our reaction on the situation,, 
in the last resort it is an instinctive reaction on that one of its 
elements which strikes us for the time being as most vitally im- 
portant." The conception of an instinctive reaction is the rele- 
vant idea; that of reaction upon an element which strikes 
us as important' the incongruous idea. Does it strike us, 
prior to the reaction, as important ? Then, most certainly, 
it already has emotional worth ; the situation is already de- 
lightful and to be perpetuated, or terrible and to be fled, or 
whatever. What does recognition of importance mean aside 
from the ascription of worth, value that is, aside from the 
projection of emotional experience ? 1 But I do not think 

1 It seems to me that the application of James' theory of emotion to his theory of 
attention would give some very interesting results. As it now stands, the theory 


James' expression in this and other similar passages is to be 
taken literally. The reaction is not made on the basis of 
the apprehension of some quality in the object; it is made 
on the basis of an organized habit, of an organized coordina- 
tion of activities, one of which instinctively stimulates the 
other. The outcome of this coordination of activities consti- 
tutes, for the first time, the object with such and such an 
import terrible, delightful, etc. or constitutes an emotion 
referring to such and such an object. For, we must insist 
once more, the frightful object and the emotion of fear are 
two names for the same experience. 

Here, then, is our point of departure in placing the 
'feel,' the 'idea,' and the 'mode of behavior' in relation to 
one another. The idea or object which precedes and stimu- 
lates the bodily discharge is in no sense the idea or object 
(the intellectual content, the ' at ' or 'on account of ') of the 
emotion itself. The particular idea, the specific quality or 
object to which the seizure attaches, is just as much due to 
the discharge as is the seizure itself. More accurately and 
definitely, the idea or the object is an abstraction from the 
activity just as much as is the ' feel ' or seizure. We have 
certain organic activities initiated, say in the eye, stimulating, 
through organized paths of association in the brain, certain 
activities of hands, legs, etc., and (through the coordination 
of these motor activities with the vegetative functions neces- 
sary to maintain them) of lungs, heart, vaso-motor system, 
digestive organs, etc. The ' bear ' is, psychologically, just 
as much a discrimination of certain values, within this total 
pulse or coordination of action, as is the feeling of 'fear.' 
The ' bear ' is constituted by the excitations of eye and 
coordinated touch centres, just as the ' terror' is by the dis- 
turbances of muscular and glandular systems. The reality, 
the coordination of these partial activities, is that whole 
activity which may be described equally well as ' that terri- 
ble bear,' or ' Oh, how frightened I am.' It is precisely 

4 in attention ' of preferential selection on the basis of interest seems to contradict the 
theory of emotional value as the outcome of preferential selection (that is, specific reac- 
tion). But the contradiction is most flagrant in the case of effort, considered, first, as 
emotion and then as an operation of will. 


and identically the same actual concrete experience; and 
the 'bear,' considered as one experience, and the 'fright,' 
considered as another, are distinctions introduced in reflec- 
tion upon this experience, not separate experience. It is the 
psychological fallacy again if the differences which result 
from the reflection are carried over into the experience itself. 
If the fright comes, then the bear is not the bear of that par- 
ticular experience, is not the object to which the feeling 
attaches, except as the fright comes. Any other supposition 
is to confuse the abstract bear of science with the concrete 
(just this) bear of experience. 

The point may be further illustrated by the objection 
which Mr. Irons has brought against the James theory. 
(Mind, 1894, p. 85). "How can one perceptive process of 
itself suffuse with emotional warmth the cold intellectuality 
of another?" Note here the assumption of two distinct 
'processes', apparently recognizing themselves as distinct, 
or anyhow somehow marked out as different in themselves. 
The continued point of Mr. Irons' objection is that Mr. James 
makes intellectual and emotional ' states ', (values) the knowl- 
edge of an object and the emotion referred to it, both due to 
currents from the periphery, and the same kind of current 
cannot be supposed to induce such radically different things 
as an intellectual and an emotional process. The objection 
entirely overlooks the fact that we have but the one organic 
pulse, the frightful bear, the frightened man, whose reality 
is the whole concrete coordination of eye leg heart, &c., 
activity, and that the distinction of cold intellectuality and 
warm emotionality is simply a functional distinction within 
this one whole of action. We take a certain phase which serves 
a certain end, namely, giving us information, and call that intel- 
lectual ; we take another phase, having another end or value, 
that of excitement, and call that emotional. But does any 
one suppose that, apart from oiir interpretation of values, there 
is one process in itself intellectual, and another process in 
itself emotional ? I cannot even frame an idea of what is 
meant. 1 can see that the eye-touch process gives us infor- 
mation mainly, and so we call that intellectual ; and that the 
heart-bowels process gives us the valuation of this informa- 


tion in terms of our own inner welfare, but aside from this 
distinction of values within a concrete whole, through reflec- 
tion upon it, I can see nothing. 

If, then, I may paraphrase Mr. James' phraseology, the 
statement would read as follows : Our customary analysis, 
reading over into the experience itself what we find by in- 
terpreting it, 1 says we have an idea of the bear as something 
to be escaped, and so run away. The hypothesis here pro- 
pounded is that the factors of a coordination (whether due 
to inherited instinct or to individually acquired habit) begin 
to operate and we run away ; running away, we get the idea 
of < running-away-from-bear ', or of ' bear-as-thing-to-be-run- 
from.' I suppose every one would admit that the complete, 
mature idea came only in and through the act of running, but 
might hold that an embryonic suggestion of running came 
before the running. I cannot disprove this position, but 
everything seems to point the other way. It is more natural 
to suppose that as the full idea of running away comes in 
from the full execution, so the vague suggestion comes 
through the vague starting-up-of the system, mediated by 
discharge from the centres. 

The idea of running away must certainly involve, as part 
of its content, an excitation of the * motor-centres ' actually 
concerned in running ; it would seem as if this excitation 
must involve some, however slight, innervation of the 
peripheral apparatus involved in the act. 2 What ground is 
there for supposing that the idea comes to consciousness save 
through the sensorial return of this peripheral excitation? 
Is there any conceivable statement, either in terms of intro- 
spection or of nervous structure, of an idea of movement 
coming to consciousness absolutely unmediated peripher- 
ally? Sensorial consciousness, mediated by the incoming 

1 This is simply circumlocution for ' common-sense.' Common-sense is practical, 
and when we are practical it is the value of our experience, what we can get out of it 
or think we can, that appeals to us. The last thing that concerns us is the actual pro- 
cess of experiencing, qua process. It might almost be said that the sole difficulty in 
psychology, upon the introspective side, is to avoid this substitution of a practical in- 
terpretation of an experience for the experience itself. 

* I do not mean that this innervation to consciousness as such ; on the con- 


current, is an undoubted fact ; it is vera causa. Putting the 
two hypotheses side by side simply as hypotheses, surely the 
logical advantage of economy and of appeal to vera causa is on 
the side of the theory which conceives the idea of movement 
in terms of a return of discharge wave, and against that 
which would make it a purely central affair. 1 

But this is far from being all. I suppose one is fairly 
entitled now to start from the assumption of a sensory-con- 
tinuum, the big, buzzing, blooming confusion/ out of which 
particular sensory quales are differentiated. Discrimination, 
not integration, is the real problem. In a general way we 
all admit that it is through attention that the distinctions 
arise, through selective emphasis. Now we may not only 
rely upon the growing feeling that attention is somehow 
bound up with motor adjustment and reaction, but we can 
point to the specific facts of sensorial discrimination which 
show, that, as a matter of fact, the range and fineness of dis- 
crimination run parallel to the apparatus for motor adjust- 
ments. We can also show that, in the only case in which 
there has, as yet, been a serious attempt to work out the de- 
tails of discrimination, namely, space distinctions, all hands 
agree that they come through motor adjustments ^the ques- 
tion whether * muscular ' or joint surface sensations are pri- 
mary, having here no importance. Such being the case, 
how can the particular stimulus which excites the discharge 
be defined as this or that object apart from our reaction to 
it? I do not care to go into the metaphysics of objective 
qualities, but dealing simply with the psychological recog- 
nition of such qualities, what basis or standard for qualita- 
tive definiteness can we have, save the consciousness of dif- 
ferences in our own organic response? The bear may be a 

1 There are further logical grounds for expecting acquiescence from those who ac- 
cept the general standpoint of Mr. James. To say nothing of the insistence upon con- 
sciousness as essentially reactive or motor, ' idea ' and emotional seizure hang together. 
Fear-of-bear, bear-as-fearful-object cannot be separated. Besides, when I introspect 
for my ' fringe ' in the stream of thought I always find its particular sensorial basis in 
shiftings of directions and quantity of breath, and other slight adjustments, just as cer- 
tainly as I always can pick out the sensorial basis for my emotional seizures. A priori, 
it is difficult to see what the ' fringe ' can be save the feeling of the running accompa- 
niment of aborted acts, having their value now only as signs or cues, but originally 
complete in themselves. 


thousand times an individual entity or distinct object meta- 
physically, if you please ; you may even suppose, if you will, 
that the particular wave-lengths which deflect from the bear, 
somehow sort themselves out from the wave-lengths coming 
from all the rest of the environment, and come to the brain 
as a distinct bundle or package by themselves but the rec- 
ognition of just this object out of the multitude of possible 
objects, of just this bundle of vibrations out of all the other 
bundles, still remains to be accounted for. The predominat- 
ing motor response supplies the conditions for its objectifi- 
cation, or selection. There is no competing hypothesis of 
any other machinery even in the field. 

We return, then, confirmed, to our belief that the mode 
of behavior, or coordination of activities, constitutes the 
ideal content of emotion just as much as it does the Affect or 
'feel', and that the distinction of these two is not given in 
the experience itself, but simply in reflection upon the expe- 
rience. The mode of action constituted by the organic co- 
ordination of certain sensori-motor (or ideo-motor) activities, 
on one side, and of certain vegetative-motor activities on the 
other, is the reality, and this reality has a value, which, 
when interpreted, we call intellectual, and a value which, 
when interpreted we call Affect, or 'feel'. In the terms of 
our illustration, the mode of behavior carried with it the 
concept of the bear as a thing to be acted towards in a cer- 
tain way, and of the < feel ' of our reaction. It is brown and 
chained a < beautiful ' object to be looked at. It is soft and 
fluffy an ' aesthetic ' object to be felt of. It is tame and 
clumsy an 'amusing' object to while away time with. It 
is hungry and angry and is a ferocious ' object to be fled. 
The consciousness of our mode of behavior as affording data 
for other possible actions constitutes the bear an objective or 
ideal content. The consciousness of the mode of behavior 

as something in itself the looking, petting, running, etc. 

constitutes the emotional seizure. In all concrete experience 
of emotion these two phases are organically united in a 
single pulse of consciousness. 

It follows from this that all emotion, as excitation, in- 
volves inhibition. This is not absolute inhibition ; it is not 


suppression or displacement. It is incidental to the coordi- 
nation. The two factors of the coordination, the ' exciting 
stimulus ' and the excited response, have to be adjusted, and 
the period of adjustment required to affect the coordination, 
marks the inhibition of each required to effect its reconstruc- 
tion as an integral part of the whole act. Or, since we have 
recognized that the exciting stimulus does not exist as fact, 
or object, until constituted such by the coordination in the 
final act, let us say that the activities needing adjustment, and 
so partial inhibition, are the kinaesthetic (sensori-motor or 
ideo-motor) activities which translate themselves into the 
'object', and the vegetative-motor activities which consti- 
tute the ' reaction ' or < response ' to the * object '. 

But here, again, in order to avoid getting on the wrong 
track it must be noted that this distinction of ' object ' and 
' response ' is one of interpretation, or value, and not a plain 
matter of course difference in the experiencing. I have 
already tried to show that the ' object ' itself is an organic 
excitation on the sensori-motor, or, mediately, ideo-motor 
side, and that it is not the peculiar object of the emotion un- 
til the mode of behavior sets in, and the diffusive wave re- 
percussates in consciousness. But it is equally necessary to 
recognize that the very distinction between exciting or stim- 
ulating sensori-motor activity and excited or responding 
vegetative-motor activity is teleological and not merely fact- 
ual. It is because these two activities have to be coordin- 
ated in a single act, to accomplish a single end, and have 
therefore to be so adjusted as to cooperate with each other, 
that they present themselves as stimulus and response. 
When we consider one activity, say the sensori-ideo-motor 
activity, which constructs or constitutes the bear as an ob- 
ject', not in itself, but from the standpoint of the final act 
into which it merges the stopping to took at the bear and 
study it scientifically, or enjoy its clumsy movements that 
activity takes the form of stimulus. So the vegetative-motor 
activity, which is, in itself as direct experience, simply the 
intrinsic organic continuation of the sensori-motor activity, 
being interpreted again as a reduced factor of, or contribu- 
tion to, the final outcome, assumes the form of response. 


But, I repeat, this distinction of stimulus and response is one 
of interpretation, and of interpretation from the standpoint 
of the value of some act considered as an accomplished end. 

The positive truth is that the prior and the succeeding 
parts of an activity are in operation together ; that the prior 
activity beside passing over into the succeeding also persists 
by itself, and yet that the necessary act cannot be performed 
until these two activities reinforce each other, or become 
contributing factors to a unified deed. The period of max- 
imum emotional seizure corresponds to this period of adjust- 
ment. If we look at the deflection or reconstruction which 
either side undergoes during this adjustment, we shall call 
it inhibition it is arrest of discharge which the activity 
would perform, if existing by itself. If we look at the final 
outcome, the completed adjustment, we have coordination. 

I think it must be obvious that this account in no way 
runs athwart Mr. James* denial of inhibition as a necessary 
phase of the Affect (Psychology, Vol. II., p. 476, note). He 
there speaks of inhibition as if it could mean only complete 
suppression which is no inhibition at all, psychologically, 
since with suppression or displacement, all tension vanishes. 
It is, indeed, a question of primary impulsive tendencies, but 
of these tendencies as conflicting with one another and there- 
fore mutually checking, at least temporarily, one another. 
Acts, which in past times, have been complete activities, now 
present themselves as contemporaneous phases of one activity. 
In so far as they were once each complete in itself, there is 
struggle of each to absorb or negate the other. This must 
either occur or else there is a readjustment and a new whole, 
or coordination, appears, they now being contributory fac- 
tors. The inhibition once worked out, whether by displace- 
ment of one or by reconstruction of both contending factors, 
the Affect dies out. 

This sort of inhibition the James theory not only permits, 
but demands otherwise the whole relation between the ex- 
citing stimulus and the instinctive response, which is the 
nerve of the theory, disappears. If the exciting stimulus 
does not persist over into the excited response, we get sim- 
ply a case of habit. The familiar fact that emotion as excite- 


ment disappears with definiteness of habit simply means that 
in so far as one activity serves simply as means, or cue, to 
another and gives way at once to it, there is no basis for 
conflict and for inhibition. But if the stimulating and the 
induced activities need to be coordinated together, if they 
are both means contributing to one and the same end, then 
the conditions for mere habit are denied, and some struggle, 
with incidental inhibitory deflection of the immediate activ- 
ity, sets in. In psychological terms, this tension is always 
between the activity which constitutes, when interpreted, 
the object as an intellectual content, and that which consti- 
tutes the response or mode of dealing with it. There is the 
one phase of organic activity which constitutes the bear as 
object; there is the other which would attack it, or run 
away from it, or stand one's ground before it. If these 
two coordinate without friction, or if one immediately dis- 
places the other, there is no emotional seizure. If they co- 
exist, both pulling apart as complete in themselves and pull- 
ing together as parts of a new whole, there is great emo- 
tional excitement. 1 It is this tension which makes it impos- 
sible to describe any emotion whatever without using dual 
terms one for the Affect itself, the other for the object ' at ', 
* towards,' or on account of,' which it is. 

We may now connect this analysis with the result of the 
consideration of the emotional attitudes. The attitude is 
precisely that which was a complete activity once, but is no 
longer so. The activity of seizing prey or attacking an 
enemy, a movement having its meaning in itself, is now re- 
duced or aborted ; it is an attitude simply. As an instinctive 
reaction it is thoroughly ingrained in the system ; it repre- 
sents the actual coordinations of thousands and thousands of 

1 See James, II., 496-497. But more particularly I should apply to the difference 
between relatively indifferent and emotionally excited consciousness precisely what 
James says of the difference between habitual and reasoned thinking. (II., p. 366.) 
" In the former, an entire system of cells vibrating at any one moment discharges in 
its totality into another system, the order of the discharges tends to be a constant one 
in time ; whilst in the latter a part of the prior system still keeps vibrating in the midst 
of the subsequent system, and the order . . . has little tendency to fixedness in time." 
Add to this that it is necessary to perform a unified act or reconstitute a single, com- 
prehensive system, and the reality (though strictly incidental character) of inhibition 


ancestors; it tends to start into action, therefore, whenever 
its associated stimulus occurs. But the very fact that it is 
now reduced to an attitude or tendency, the very fact that 
it is now relatively easy to learn to control the instinctive 
blind reaction when we are stimulated in a certain way, 
shows that the primary activity is inhibited ; it no longer 
exists as a whole by itself, but simply as a coordinated 
phase, or a contributory means, in a larger activity. There 
is no reason to suppose that the original activity of attack 
or seizure was emotional, or had any quale attached to it 
such as we now term 'anger'. The animal or our ances- 
tor so far as it was given up without restraint to the full 
activity undoubtedly had a feeling of activity ; but just be- 
cause the activity was undivided, it was not ' emotion ' ; it 
was not at ', or < towards ' an object held in tension against 
itself. This division could come in only when there was a 
need of coordinating the activity which corresponded to the 
perception and that which corresponded to the fighting, as 
means to an activity which was neither perceiving nor fight- 
ing. The animal growling and lashing its tail as it waits to 
fight may have an emotional consciousness, but even here, 
there may be, for all we know, simply a unified conscious- 
ness, a complete concentration on the act of maintaining that 
posture, the act of waiting being the adequate response to 
the given stimulus. Certainly, 1 so far as I can trust my own 
introspection, whenever my anger or any strong emotion has 

1 1 have no intention here of constructing, a priori, the animal consciousness. I use 
this merely as hypothetical illustration ; (/"unification of activity, then no emotion ; if 
emotion, then tension of intellectual recognition on one side and consideration of how 
to behave towards object recognized on the other. I must add, however, that such in- 
terpretations as Darwin's umbrella case (in his Descent of Man), as illustrating a rude 
sense of the supernatural, seem to me most unwarrantably anthropomorphic. Surely, 
the only straightforward interpretation is, there was interruption of a reaction which had 
started to discharge, and that such a change in stimulus suddenly set up another dis- 
charge totally at cross-purposes with the first, thus disintegrating the animal's coordina- 
tions for a moment. Unless the animal recognizes or objectifies the familiar reaction, 
and recognizes also the unexpected reaction in such a way that there tension arises 
between the two, there can be no emotion in the animal, but simply a shock of inter- 
rupted activity the sort of fit which James speaks of, Vol. II, 420. It may well be 
that the feeling cf the supernatural in man, however, is precisely the feeling of such 
tension instead of there being an idea of the supernatural, and then an associated 
feeling of terror towards it. 


gained complete possession of me, the peculiar Affect quale 
has disappeared. I remember well a youthful fight, with the 
emotions of irritation and anger before, and of partial fear 
and partial pride afterwards, but as to the intervening period 
of the fight nothing but a strangely vivid perception of the 
other boy's face as the hypnotizing focus of all my muscular 
activities. On the other side, my most intense and vengeful 
feelings of anger are associated with cases where my whole 
body was so sat on as to prevent the normal reaction. Every 
one knows how the smart and burn of the feeling of injustice 
increases with the feeling of impotency ; it is, for example, 
when strikes are beginning to fail that violence from anger 
or revenge, as distinct from sheer criminality, sets in. It is 
a common-place that the busy philanthropist has no occasion 
to feel the extreme emotion of pathos which the spectator or 
reader of literature feels. Cases might be multiplied ad lib- 

It is then in the reduction of activities once performed for 
their own sake, to attitudes now useful simply as supplying 
a contributory, a reinforcing or checking factor, in some 
more comprehensive activity, that we have all the conditions 
for high emotional disturbance. The tendency to large dif- 
fusive waves of discharge is present, and the inhibition of 
this outgoing activity through some perception or idea is 
also present. The need of somehow reaching an adjustment 
of these two sides is urgent. The attitude stands for a re- 
capitulation of thousands of acts formerly done, ends formerly 
reached ; the perception or idea stands for multitudes of acts 
which may be done, ends which may be acted upon. But 
the immediate and present need is to get this attitude of 
anger which reflects the former act of seizing into some con- 
nection with the act of getting-even or of moral control, or 
whatever the idea may be. The conflict and competition, 
with incidental inhibition and deflection, is the disturbance 
of the emotional seizure. 

Upon this basis, the apparent strangeness or absurdity in 
the fact that a mere organic repercussation should have such 
tremendous values in consciousness disappears. This organic 
return of the discharge wave stands for the entire effort of 


the organism to adjust its formed habits or coordinations of 
the past to present necessities as made known in perception 
or idea. The emotion is, psychologically, the adjustment or 
tension of habit and ideal, and the organic changes in the body 
are the literal working out, in concrete terms, of the struggle 
of adjustment. We may recall once more the three main 
phases presented in this adjustment as now giving us the 
basis of the classification of the emotions. There may be a 
failure to adjust the vegetative-motor function, the habit, to 
the sensori-(or ideo-) motor ; there may be the effort, or there 
may be the success. The effort, moreover, also has a double 
form according as the attempt is in the main so to use the 
formed reactions as to avoid or exclude the idea or object, 
setting up another in its place, or to incorporate and assimi- 
late it e. g., terror and anger, dread and hope, regret and 
complacency, etc. 1 

I shall not carry out this classification ; but further sug- 
gest that, in my judgment, we now have the means for dis- 
criminating emotion as Gefuhlston, as emotional disturbance, 
or Affect (with which we have been dealing so far) and as 

Interest is the feeling which arises with the completed 
coordination. Let the tension solve itself by successive dis- 
placements in time, i. e., means assuming a purely serial form 
in which one stimulates the next, and we get the indifference 
of routine. But let the various means succeed in organizing 
themselves into a simultaneous comprehensive whole of ac- 
tion, and we have interest. All interest, qua interest, it 
would follow from this, is qualitatively alike, being differen- 
tiated simply by the idea to which it attaches. And expe- 

1 Because of the tension, however, these cannot be set over against each other 
absolutely. All terror, till it passes into pathological fright, involves anger, and anger 
some fear, etc. All moral experience is only too full of the subtle and deceiving ways 
in which regret (condemnation) and complacency (self -approbation) run into each other. 
There is the Pharisee who can maintain his sense of his own goodness only by tension 
with his thought of evil; or who can make his depth of remorse material for self- 
gratulation. And there is the sentimental selfish character which disguises its own 
disgrace from itself by emotional recognitions of the beauty of goodness, and of its own 
misfortunes in not being able, in the past, to satisfy this ideal. I have never known 
other such touching tributes to goodness as can proceed from the sentimental egoist, 
when he gets into ' trouble,' as he euphemistically terms it. 


rience seems to verify this inference. Interest is undisturbed 
action, absorbing action, unified action, and all interests, as 
interests, are equally interesting. The collection of postage 
stamps is as absorbing, if it is absorbing or an interest, as 
the discovery of double-stars; and the figuring of indefinite 
columns of statistics as the discovery of the nature of sym- 
pathy. Nor is this a pathological principle, as it might seem 
to be were we to instance merely fads or hobbies. The mul- 
tiplicity of deeds which demand doing in this world is too 
great to be numbered ; that principle which secures that if 
only full or organic activity go into each end, each act 
shall equally satisfy in its time and place, is the highest 
ethical principle ; it is the statement of the only religious 
emotional experience which really seems worth while the 
sense of the validity of all necessary doing. I cannot dwell 
upon this matter of interest, but I suggest the case of purely 
scientific interest as crucial. On one side, it seems wholly 
unemotional, so free from all disturbance or excitation may 
it become ; on the other, it represents a culmination of absorp- 
tion, of concentrated attention. How this apparent paradox 
is to be dealt with save on the supposition that emotion (as 
Affect) is the feeling of tension in action, while interest is the 
feeling of a complex of relevant activity unified in a single 
channel of discharge, I do not see. 

As for the Gefuhlston, I shall only state the conclusion 
that would seem to follow from a thorough-going application 
of the principle already laid down. I do not know that this 
complete application is advisable, much less necessary, but I 
share somewhat in the feeling of Mr. Baldwin as expressed 
in the Nov. number (p. 6 17) of this REVIEW, that there is a pre- 
sumption that a unitary principle holds all the way through. 1 
At all events, those who have followed me so far may like 
to see how the hypothesis already propounded might con- 
ceivably apply to the case of, say, delight in certain tones, 

1 It hardly seems fair, though, to charge Mr. James with inconsistency because he 
declines to force his theory beyond the limits of the facts upon which he feels himself 
to have a sure hold. Surely we may admire this reserve, even if we cannot imitate it, 
instead of virtually accusing him of giving away his whole case by admitting, hypothet- 
ically, the existence of facts whose explanation would require an opposite principle. 


colors or tastes, while those who do not accept the hypothesis 
will hardly be shocked at one absurdity the more. 

The suggestion, then, is that the Gefiihlston represents 
the complete consolidation of a large number of achieved 
ends into the organic habit or coordination. It is interest 
read backwards. That represents the complete identifica- 
tion of the habits with a certain end or aim. The tone of 
sense-feeling represents the reaction, the incorporate identi- 
fication, of the successful ends into the working habit. It is 
not, as I have hitherto indicated, habit as habit which be- 
comes feelingless ; it is only the habit which serves as mere 
means, or serial stimulus. That a given coordination should 
assume into itself the value of all associated coordinations is 
a fact of every day experience. Our eye-consciousness takes 
up into itself the value of countless motor and touch experi- 
ences ; our ear takes up the value of motor and visual expe- 
riences, &c. There is no apparent reason why this vicarious 
assumption should not become so organically registered 
pace Weissman as to become hereditary ; and become more 
and more functionally incorporated into structure. 

To sum up: Certain movements, formerly useful in 
themselves, become reduced to tendencies to action, to atti- 
tudes. As such they serve, when instinctively aroused into 
action, as means for realizing ends. But so far as there is 
difficulty in adjusting the organic activity represented by 
the attitude with that which stands for the idea or end, there 
is temporary struggle and partial inhibition. This is reported 
as Affect, or emotional seizure. Let the coordination be 
effected in one act, instead of in a successive series of mutu- 
ally exclusive stimuli, and we have interest. Let such coor- 
dinations become thoroughly habitual and hereditary, and 
we have Gefiihlston. 



College of Physicians and Surgeons, New York. 

It is not necessary to present to the readers of this jour- 
nal any lengthy discussion in regard to the muscular sense. 
Every psychologist admits that there is a sense of movement 
which enables us to appreciate, (i) the position of a limb in 
space ; (2) the degree and force of muscular action necessary 
to change the position of that limb ; (3) the power needed to 
oppose varying resistances to the motion of that limb. It 
has been thought by some that the muscular sense was mate- 
rially aided by the tactile sense in the process of accurate 
guiding and adjustment ; it has been held by others that the 
muscular sense was wholly independent of the other senses 
and the fact here recorded supports this latter view. It has 
been held by some, that the centres of perception of the mus- 
cular sense in the cortex were identical with the centres of 
movement in the cortex; it has been held by others, that 
these centres were separate from one another; and the fact 
here recorded, supports this latter view. 

It is well known that disturbance in muscular sense may 
be produced by diseases in various parts of the nervous sys- 
tem. Thus we have ataxia or incoordination of movement, 
not depending upon paralysis of the muscles, but entirely due 
to a lack of appreciation of muscular sense impressions, from 
(i) diseases of the peripheral nerves; (2) diseases of the pos- 
terior columns of the spinal cord, as shown in locomotor 
ataxia; (3) diseases of the lemniscus or its radiation in the 
internal capsule in its course toward the cortex around the 
Rolandic fissure ; (4) general diffuse diseases of the cortex of 
the brain, such as general paresis. It is evident therefore, 



that any defect in the tract conveying muscular sense from 
the muscles to the brain cortex, will produce a disturbance 
in the power of coordination. 

Hitherto, facts have been wanting to determine the actual 
position of the termination of this tract in the cortex and the 
exact location of the muscular sense centres. The following 
observation, therefore, is one of considerable value, inasmuch 
as it illustrates the possibility of producing an entire loss of 
muscular sense by a limited destruction of the brain cor- 
tex, without producing at the same time, any disturbance in 
motor power or in tactile sensibility ; and determines the 
localization of the muscular sense centre for the hand in the 
parietal region. 

The case presents a set of facts quite analogous to those 
obtained in a physiological experiment and is one of consid- 
erable interest. 

A young man was brought to the Presbyterian Hospital, 
suffering from intense headache, to the left of, and somewhat 
behind the vertex, and from epilepsy. He had been a healthy 
boy until his fifth year, when he had a severe fall on his 
head, which was followed by unconsciousness for several 
hours. Since that time he had never completely gained his 
mental balance. He had seemed fairly bright at his lessons, 
and willing to study, but was very easily agitated and accus- 
tomed to give way to emotional excitement or passion ; his 
memory was good, but his powers of application somewhat 
deficient. When he was sixteen years old, he had another 
fall on his head followed by unconsciousness, and from that 
time his symptoms were all increased. The headache was 
very intense, quite constant, and subject to sudden periods 
of increase. When the pain increased exceedingly, the boy 
would develop a maniacal condition, in which his actions 
were extravagant, his speech abusive and profane, and in 
which he resorted to acts of violence toward his family and 
employers. These attacks occurred every few days, unless 
reduced in frequency by the use of bromide of potash ; but 
in spite of treatment, would occur every three or four weeks. 
After the attack was over, he had no recollection of what 
had occurred during it, and on several occasions, he lost con- 


sciousness during the attack and slept heavily after it; he 
never had any convulsions. This condition had been present 
for five years, when he came to the hospital. It was thought 
that the attacks were of the nature of epilepsy, being of the 
variety known as the epileptic psychical equivalent, in which 
condition a sudden attack of mental aberration takes the 
place of a convulsion, and though the patient is apparently 
conscious, he subsequently has no recollection whatever of 
his acts during an attack. The fact that these attacks 
had developed after a fall on the head, and that he suffered 
constantly from severe pain at the seat of the injury, led 
to an attempt to relieve the condition by opening the 
skull. Dr. McCosh, Surgeon to the Presbyterian Hos- 
pital, trephined him and found, upon exposing the brain, 
a small vascular tumor lying beneath the point of injury, 
directly upon the brain surface. The size of this vas- 
cular tumor was about ^ of an inch in diameter. It was 
removed without producing any injury to the surface of 
the brain, so far as could be determined. The brain was ex- 
plored by thrusting a needle into it in three directions, in 
view of the possibility of finding a small collection of fluid 
beneath the surface ; but nothing was found. The boy recov- 
ered from the operation rapidly, so that within ten days he 
was quite well ; but immediately after the operation it was 
found that he had lost his muscular sense in the right hand 
and arm, below the elbow. Attention was called to the fact 
by the peculiar awkwardness in the movement of hand and 
arm. Any attempt to grasp a pencil or glass of water or to 
pick up a pin, resulted in most excessive motions of an irreg- 
ular type, without the possibility of carrying out the desired 
movement, even when guided by sight. The attempt to 
place his finger upon his nose with his eyes closed, failed; 
the finger being carried beyond the side of the head and above 
it; in fact all voluntary guidance of the hand was imperfect. 
At the same time his strength was as good as ever, his grip 
was greater in the right hand than in the left, so that the 
defect of movement was in no way due to an actual loss of 
power. When his eyes were closed he was absolutely unable 
to tell what position had been given to his fingers or hand 


by the examiner; he did not know whether his hand was 
open or closed ; when his hand and fingers were placed in a 
position and he was requested to put the other hand in the 
same position, his eyes being shut, he was totally unable to 
do so ; he was unable to estimate with any degree of accur- 
acy, substances different in weight in the right hand, though 
able to detect the differences readily with the left hand. It 
was evident that his awkwardness of movement was largely 
due to the inability to adjust his motions with the necessary 
degree of power. At the same time his tactile sense and 
sensation of temperature and pain were perfectly normal. 
There was no disturbance of any kind in the face or leg. 
This condition began to pass off about three weeks after the 
operation, and at the end of three months, he had recovered 
his muscular sense entirely. It was therefore evident, that 
t-his particular effect had been produced by a small localized 
injury of the cortex of the brain, which had been subsequently 
repaired by nature. The exact position of the cortex injured 
was easily determined, and it was found to be about two 
inches behind the fissure of Rolando and about an inch and a 
half to the left of the median line, at about the junction of 
the superior and inferior parietal lobules. This observation 
would therefore indicate : first, that the muscular sense cen- 
tres are distinct in their location from tactile or pain or tem- 
perature sense centres; and also from the motor centres; 
secondly, that they are situated just behind the motor area 
in the parietal region of the brain. 



Lawrence Scientific School, Harvard University. 

The problem which stimulated to the designing of this 
apparatus was that of testing the power of an individual to 
quickly and accurately touch an object suddenly disclosed to 
him in an unexpected position. In order to make the prob- 
lem as simple as possible the apparatus (see Figure i) 
was so devised that the subject is required to make a 
movement of the finger from the end of the nose to some 
portion of the arc of a circle of which he is the centre and 
whose plane is at the level of his elbow. Three positions 
were selected to give a wide range of movement, namely, 
the centre immediately in front and a point on each side at a 
distance of about 14 in. (A, B and C). The object to be touched 
consists of a white spot ^ in. in diameter, which may be 
placed at any one of these points without the knowledge of 
the subject, a screen being in front, arranged to fall at the 
proper time and instantly disclose the spot. In connection 
with this, a pendulum chronoscope is used which measures 
the interval of time between the falling of the screen and the 
touching of the white spot. 

The apparatus for determining the error is constructed to 
measure the distance of the centre of the finger (Fig. 2, F) 
from the centre of the white spot (S) on either side, thus 
showing the error of the movement executed and its direc- 
tion. It consists of a horizontal strip (St) of blackened brass 
7 in. long, bearing in its centre the white spot (S). This is 
hinged along one side so that the finger pressure makes an 
electrical contact (E) to determine the end of the time inter- 
val and also releases the clamp controlling the error record- 
ing apparatus. Below this are two light arms (GG) pivoted 


G. W. FITZ. 

at a common point directly under the white spot, so that 
their tips project above the first strip about ^ in. These 
arms are connected by a spring (Sp) tending to pull them to- 
gether, but are held apart in the preliminary position by the 


pressure of the clamp projecting downward from strip (St, 
not shown in diagram) and are released by the touch of the 
subject, springing instantly to grasp the finger (F) between 
them. The raising of the finger clamps them anew in this 
position, and the displacement of the index showing the mid 
point of the finger can be read on its scale (R-L). This is 
found to work very quickly and conveniently with practi- 
cally no observation error. A frame work carries the 
various parts and a set of wheels enables it to be run into any 
position desired. 

The chronoscope has a balanced pendulum (Fig. 3), 12 
inches total length, so weighted (W) that the time of swing 
is about a second and a half. The pendulum (P) carries a 


light index (I) that may be clamped instantly in any position 
on the scale (S), which latter was graduated empirically in 
hundredths of a second by a falling weight. The pendulum 


is held in the preparatory position (Fig. 4) by means of a hook 
{H) connected with the armature (A) of an electromagnet 



{M). The breaking of the circuit by the fall of the screen 
releases (Fig. 5, R) the pendulum carrying its index; the re- 



making of the circuit, by the touch of the subject's finger, 
releases (Fig. 5, R) the clamp (C) and catches the index so that 

G. W. FITZ. 

the time may be read upon the scale (Fig. 3, S). There is a 
level (L) upon the base board to enable one to put it in an 
exactly horizontal position, and the error of the instrument 
is thereby reduced to a negligible quantity. The details of 
the release are shown in Figures 4 and 5. 

By means of this apparatus it was hoped to measure some 
of the elements making up the differences which exist be- 
tween individuals in their power to do certain things requir- 
ing quickness and accuracy, as, for instance, tennis playing 
and fencing, the essential requirements being the perception 
and quick interpretation of external conditions, followed in- 
stantly by an appropriate motor response. The apparatus 
gives us somewhat similar conditions to those offered by the 
games mentioned, but gives them so definitely that it is pos- 
sible to get a numerical statement of what each individual is 
able to do in terms of quickness and accuracy. The differ- 
ences have been found to be remarkably great, and there is 
an apparent lack of coordination between time and error; 
that is, those who are quick are not necessarily less accurate 
than those who are slower. 

The accompanying table shows the result of some work 
with the apparatus, and is given to suggest the wide range 
of individual ability thus tested. 



Time in 

% of 


% of 


Tta se c- 







27- 35 



ii. i 




35- 45 







45- 55 







55- 65 







65- 75 







75- 85 







85- 95 












The tests were made in three positions (A, B, C, in the 
order i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6), as described, every individual making 


four attempts in each position, twelve all told. These were 
recorded separately, hence it is possible to study each effort 
in relation to the position in which it was made. This was 
done for both hands to compare the right with the left in 
regard to quickness, accuracy and direction of error; but it 
has been thought best not to include a discussion of the 
results from this standpoint in the present paper. 

The table contains a study of the observations made with 
the right, or preferred, hand by 173 males and 72 females, 
all those of one individual being treated here as if made in 
one position. They were obtained from several sources, a 
large portion of them being derived from the Psychological 
Laboratory of the Columbian Exposition, Chicago, where 
the apparatus was in use by Prof. Jastrow, and also from 
Harvard students and in the Harvard Summer School of 
Physical Training. Inasmuch as it did not seem possible to 
make a fair classification of these, they have been arranged 
in two divisions, male and female, regardless of ages and 

The first column of the table gives the limits of quickness, 
determining each group of these two classes : the second, in 
the two divisions of the table, gives the number of individu- 
als whose reactions lie between the limits noted : the third 
gives the percentage of this number to the total number in 
the class, while the fourth gives the average error which is 
a measure of the accuracy of the movements. It will be 
noticed that the number of individuals of the different groups 
shows a distinct distribution curve with the apex at about 
0.5 Sec. in the males and 0.6 Sec. in the females, suggesting 
that these are near the means. Of course, this quickness is 
made up of the reaction time proper and the time occupied 
in making the movement from the end of the nose to the 
plane of the apparatus. It will be noticed also that the aver- 
age errors for these groups do not vary in ratio to the 
quickness, but that those who make the movement in .35 Sec. 
are almost as accurate as the group making the movement in 
.75 Sec., some being, indeed, more accurate in the former 
case than in the latter. There is a suggestion of uniformity 
in the value of the errors, and one cannot help thinking that 

42 G. W. FITZ. 

the everyday, haphazard activity, demanding as it does a 
certain degree of accuracy in the execution of movements, 
determines for each individual his range of error, and that 
time is the main element of variation. 

It will be noted that though the time of the females is 
longer than that of the males, there is a compensatory in- 
crease in accuracy. The relation between time and accuracy 
has not been determined, so it is not possible to make a state- 
ment of the value of accuracy in terms of time, but un- 
doubtedly the individual, who is fairly accurate and very 
quick, is more accurate when he takes more time, yet it is 
also true that he is sometimes much more accurate than at 
others without being necessarily either quicker or slower. 
These individual variations have still to be studied. The 
main point to be emphasized now is, that between two per- 
sons it is practically possible to bring one element of the test, 
either time or accuracy, to equality, so that the difference 
may be expressed numerically in terms of the other. Just 
what value this series of tests has can not be stated posi- 
tively, but we believe it has distinct reference to motor abil- 
ity, and that this will be shown by an increased number of 
observations upon individuals whose powers are definitely 
known by comparison with others in the various games. 

I wish to acknowledge special indebtedness to Prof. Joseph 
Jastrow, Mr. G. W. Morehouse, Dr. F. B. Jewett and Mr. 
A. W. Jeardeau for assistance in getting observations. 



The question of the relation of mind and body is one from which the 
practiced reader shrinks as from a foreseen and profitless logomachy. 
It is, so to speak, a game of chess, in which the weary on-looker an- 
ticipates every familiar opening and every vain movement to the mo- 
ment when the infinite baffler of our finite thought mockingly cries 
'mate.' The deep-seated intellectual desire for unity and the impos- 
sibility of comprehending causal interaction between two disparate 
substances, drive us to the affirmation of a Spinozistic psycho-physical 
parallelism. Two courses then lie open to us. Common sense and 
the dread of paradox lead us to limit this parallelism, and to affirm 
that it obtains only in the nerve structures of the organic world. That 
is, that every mental event has its physical counterpart, but that the 
converse is not true. This view unflinchingly applied, together 
with the principle of continuous causation, makes the physical world 
the^n'us and the absolutely real, and reduces thought, feeling and 
consciousness to phenomenal illusions, summis fluitantia rebus. It 
is perhaps the dominant view as a psychological method at pres- 
ent. But it is not really tenable as an ontological principle by any 
serious thinker who knows his Berkeley, Kant and Schopenhauer. 

The alternative is to make the parallelism absolute and assign a 
mental and subjective or 'inner' side, not merely to the nerve sub- 
stances of man and the higher animals, but to every atom of cosmic 
dust. Mind thus becomes co-extensive with matter, and as the im- 
mediately known reduces its physical counterpart to an illusion, an 
inference, a presentation, an aspect or reflection of itself. But how 
are we to conceive this mind or minds? Are the barriers and limits 
imposed by matter as illusory, from the standpoint of the absolutely 
real, as matter itself? And are all that we count separate minds 
connected, related and fused in an infinite world-soul that manifests 
itself in countless finite aspects? Or is our indefectible sense of 
isolated individuality the mental counterpart of the lines of demark- 
ation we find in the material world; and will eternal form continue 
to divide the innumerable minds the theory postulates? And if so, 



what and where are the essential units of mind and reality? Is the 
unit the full consciousness of a mature man corresponding to the 
healthy action of the entire nervous system ? Is it one of those split- 
off consciousnesses of which French pathology has so suspicious a 
monopoly ? Is it a single thought, supposing us to be able to analyze 
out a single thought ? Is it the dim sentience of an amoeba ? Is it the 
postulated inner aspect of a molecule or rather, since molecules are 
compounds, of an atom? Evidently these questions throw us back 
into the metaphysics of the Leibnitzian monad, and we are led to 
speculate whether there may not be two kinds of spiritual unity, 
one corresponding to the mental atom, the other to the various ag- 
gregations of such units under the control of a superior co-ordinating 
monad. By this plan, we might return to a world-soul that would 
yet leave us at least the illusion of a real finite existence. Specula- 
tions of this sort, alluring and inevitable as they are to all who 
dabble in metaphysics, do not touch the realities of our thought and 
experience very nearly. But however fruitless they may seem, they 
are at present inextricably involved with the methodology, the aims 
and the conflicting tendencies of modern psychology. No psy- 
chology in recent times is free from this sort of metaphysics, and 
the writers who protest against it loudest are the most deeply in- 
fected. Great interest attaches, therefore, to the review of the 
entire question just published by the veteran Wundt. 1 If we can not 
look for final solutions even from him, we may expect light on the 
darker places of his own voluminous works, suggestive criticisms of 
present psychological tendencies, and a clear defining of the some- 
what obscure issues between him and the young psychologists of the 
school of Ziehen and Miinsterberg. 

It is probable that only a few very patient readers have been 
able to form a clear conception of what the controversy between 
these two schools, if we may call them so, is about. The new psy- 
chologists have all been directly or indirectly trained in the school 
of Wundt, and the master himself has from time to time modified 
the formal statement at least of his doctrines in concession to their 
criticisms. They profess a perfunctory allegiance, which he regards 
as hollow, to the results of Kantian criticism; and he disavows the 
traces of supernaturalism or mysticism which they discover in his 
theories of apperception, attention, and will. Both accept as funda- 
mental the psycho-physical parallelism, the conservation of energy, 
the indispensability of introspection, the utility of the experimental 

1 Ueber psychische Causalitdt und das Princip des psychophysischen Paral- 
lelismus. W. Wundt, P kilos. Stud., X., 1-124. 1894. 


method. Wundt denies that the psycho-physical parallelism involves 
the existence of any physical counterpart of the successive creative 
syntheses by which our thought is qualitatively elaborated out of the 
elements that analysis detects, and he stigmatizes as materialistic 
the psychology that fails to recognize this limitation on the study of 
mind through matter. But Miinsterberg, while affirming that the 
entire content of our consciousness is explicable by the association 
of sensational elements in obedience to physical laws, expressly ex- 
cepts from the possibility of such explanation the quality of con- 
sciousness that attaches to this content. May it not be that by this 
inexplicable quality of consciousness Miinsterberg is merely general- 
izing what Wundt means by insisting that every mental synthesis 
yields a quality that cannot be obtained from the sum of its elements, 
and which is, therefore, inexplicable by any analysis or synthesis 
stated in physical symbols? If this is the case, there is, after all, no 
very serious philosophical difference between the two disputants. 
Both accept the psycho-physical parallelism, both recognize our ina- 
bility to bridge the gulf between the two series. But Miinsterberg, 
content with a general recognition of these difficulties, would simplify 
his psychological analysis by practically ignoring them, as does 
Spencer, and treating the mere combinations of the elements ex- 
pressed in physical symbols as an adequate explanation of all higher 
states. Wundt, on the other hand, wishes us to recognize the irre- 
ducible quality of mind at each stage of the synthetic process, by 
which we rise from the simpler to the more complex mental states. 

For the method and the language of psychology, however, the 
difference is all important. Wundt's psychological descriptions and 
analyses are couched in a literary language that makes its appeal 
directly to our conscious experience. The words are chosen for 
their power to recall vividly to the reader's mind the experience of 
which he treats. To some extent, of course, all psychologists use 
language in this way. But the tendency of the 'new,' the 'phys- 
iological,' the 'materialistic* psychology is to employ in psych- 
ological descriptions and analyses, language which has a merely 
symbolic and algebraic value, expressions chosen not for their power 
to reinstate the experience described, but for their convenience for 
expressing the writer's view of its explanatory analysis. Which dia- 
lect will the psychologist of the future use? If he is as clever as 
Prof. James he will probably employ both languages, the language 
of vivid literary description to aid the reader in realizing the states 
depicted, the language of symbol to lend plausibility and a halo of 
science to the analysis. 


But what is the real service of the symbol? In mathematical 
physics we substitute abstract symbols for the sensible realities, be- 
cause the symbol is adequate for our purposes. It enables us to 
solve problems and to predict results. In other words, it represents 
the true causal relations so far as they are accessible to human in- 
telligence. Now, the employment of symbols and symbolical, 
physiological language by the ' young psychologists ' is mainly due 
to their instinctive desire to transfer to psychology the conception 
of cause which mathematical physics has made the ideal of modern 
science. Speaking of the schematic diagrams by which he illustrates 
association, Prof. James says: "It is only as incorporated in the 
brain that such a scheme can represent anything causal," and he 
accordingly denies that similarity can be an ultimate law of associa- 
tion on the ground that similar ideas do not co-exist in the mind in 
the intervals of latency, but are mere dispositions of the brain. A 
like feeling about psychic causality underlies his suggestions that psy- 
chology is awaiting its Galileo or Lavoisier, whose advent may sur- 
prise us any day. Our entire conception of the method and prosecu- 
tion of psychological research will depend on our acceptance or rejec- 
tion of this assimilation of physical to psychical causality. Owing 
to the homogeneity of its symbols (which enables us to interpolate 
imaginary links at pleasure,) physical causation tends to be con- 
ceived as a continuous unbroken chain. It is not easy to conceive 
of psychic causation in this way. Highly complex states succeed 
each other in the mind with no apprehensible intermediate links, 
and consciousness as a whole is suspended in sleep and disease. The 
resort to the infinitesimal of the unconscious savors of Leibnitzian 
metaphysics. It is easy, then, to see why the young psychologists 
seek to base their psychologies on the physical conception of cause. 
But we have still to ask, what is the justification of this procedure, 
either from the point of view of ultimate metaphysics or of practical 
psychologizing? If they seriously maintain that all causal efficacy 
resides in brain states which have no psychic counterpart, then, de- 
spite their professed allegiance to the critical philosophy, they are 
making matter a 'Ding an sich.' If they accept consciousness 
in toto, as a reality for which no physical conditions can account, or 
if they admit anywhere a mental spontaneity, which can select 
among the ideas which the associative machinery introduces, they 
have abandoned the unflinching mechanical explanation of the uni- 
verse, as completely as if they granted us a soul, possessing the 
faculty of retaining latent ideas and associating them by similarity. 
If it is impossible to carry the mechanical explanation through, how 


can they define a priori the powers and potencies of the irreducible 
spiritual factor whose presence in the problem is so grudgingly con- 
ceded? It will perhaps be said that this is unprofitable metaphysics, 
and that in practice the ' soul ' has shown itself a perfectly barren 
and useless psychological conception, while brain processes and 
schematic diagrams have been found to be fruitful working hypothe- 
ses. What then is the real outcome, either for knowledge of the 
mind or for scientific anatomy of the hypothetical brain schemes that 
adorn the pages of the new psychology? Such are some of the chief 
problems suggested by Wundt's study, of which, after these intro- 
ductory reflections, I proceed to give a brief summary. 

Viewed in the light of the psychological origin of the conception, 
a cause is a thing that produces an effect on another thing. When 
primitive thought has occasion to distinguish cause and condition, 
it regards the thing as the cause proper and its varying aspects and 
relations as the conditions of its operation. More exact and abstract 
thought comes to recognize that there is always some special rela- 
tion, quality or change of the thing that determines its effect on 
another thing, and thus arises a tendency to fix the attention on this 
determining relation or aspect as the cause proper, and to regard 
things with their complexes of qualities and relations as the con- 
ditions. Now in fixing the meaning of a term like cause, we may 
endeavor to make our definition include its psychological origin and 
popular acceptation, or we may intentionally modify the conception 
so as to make it a more convenient instrument of thought. In deal- 
ing with the idea of cause we must follow the latter course. We 
must modify the original conception in accordance with the needs of 
modern science. To attain command over nature and the power of 
prediction, science must possess a practicably applicable criterion 
for distinguishing that condition which is for our purpose the ope- 
rating cause. From this point of view things are too vague to serve 
as causes. A thing is a complex of generalities, a seat of countless 
qualities known or unknown, the center of an infinity of relations, 
along the line of any one of which its qualities may operate. Yet to 
disregard things altogether, and to consider qualities and relations 
only, is to fall back on Hume's conception of causality, and retain 
no law or order in the world other than subjective rule of habit. 
This difficulty is in part met in the exact sciences by the modern 
conception of causality based on the conservation of energy and the 
equivalence of the forces of nature. The cause equals the effect in 
units of force, and the chain of causation is a series of mathematical 
physical equations. What is the significance, and what are the 


limitations of this principle? In the present state of science it is a 
mere postulate. The complication of the problem, if nothing else, 
prevents verification in the majority of cases. But verification, 
when possible, is so precise, the evidence accumulates so rapidly, 
and the satisfaction of the imaginative desire for unity is so complete, 
that we assume the law to be absolute for the physical world. Does 
this mean that the physical order constitutes a closed series, into 
which it is demonstrably impossible to interpolate an alien or spirit- 
ual link, such as an impulse from the soul to the brain, however 
slight? On this point there is an apparent uncertainty in Wundt's 
utterances. The energy of position to be developed by a stone 
hurled into the air would remain the same, he says, were the stone 
arrested by a miracle and held in suspense for a given time. Now, 
only a small portion of the equations by which the mechanical ex- 
planation of the universe is stated are dynamic, we are in every case 
compelled to rest finally on static equations. And the validity of 
such equations, while not inconsistent with the conception of the 
physical world as a closed series, does not preclude the intrusion of 
an alien form of causality, provided the intruder is not supposed to 
create, but only to direct or release energy. But surely the only 
meaning of this is that gravitation, chemical affinity and electricity 
are still mysteries which we are unable to explain in dynamically con- 
tinuous terminology. But the modern ' flowing philosophers ' will 
claim that all reality is ultimately expressible in dynamical terms, 
and that the statical equations are mere temporary expressions of 
our ignorance. In which case they can only be met by pointing out 
that on this assumption every problem will be infinitely complicated 
and commit us to an infinite regress, making the mechanical expla- 
nation of the world forever impossible. Wundt virtually admits 
this. There are two conceivable types of miracles, he says: those 
that create new energy and those that merely release latent energy. 
The first are excluded by the law of the conservation of energy. 
The second become impossible if we postulate a continuous series of 
dynamic equations between any two statical equations. In any case, 
the burden of proof rests with the affirmer. Psychic phenomena 
yield no warrant for assuming miracles of the second kind, and the 
complexity and purposiveness, which we see in actions, known to 
be purely reflex and unconscious, are against it. Complete psycho- 
physical parallelism, then, as an empirically given fact and a postu- 
late of method, must be the doctrine of modern psychology. The 
metaphysical meaning of that parallelism and its application beyond 
consciousness, belong to metaphysics and epistemology. This 


parallelism postulates co-existence in time between the associated 
members of the physical and mental series. But there are two 
psychic realities of which it renders no account. These are the 
combinations of psychic elements with each other and the Werthun- 
terschiede. There is nothing in the world of physical forces and 
processes that corresponds with these. 

Here again the young radicals will detect an irrational element 
in Wundt's philosophy, and it is necessary to define his meaning. 
Even assuming an established parallelism between the elements, 
physical combinations cannot explain psychic combinations because 
the former are quantitative while the latter are qualitative, and the 
product possesses qualities not found in the elements. This truth, 
the principle of creative synthesis, as he afterwards calls it, is a 
sufficient bar to all 'materialistic' psychology. But in the state- 
ment we are considering Wundt seems to have affirmed or denied 
more than is necessary. He denies not only that the physical paral- 
lelism can account for qualities, but that there is any physical 
counterpart. A feeling of inmost union between two tone or color 
.sensations implies, he says, no physical bond beyond contemporaneity. 
This seems a wanton limitation of the principle of parallelism. 
The assumption that there is some sort of a physical basis for the 
qualitative likeness of feelings does not, as Wundt holds, lead to the 
reductio ad absurdum of a Cartesian pineal gland. There is ample 
room for imaginative conjecture in our ignorance of the structure 
and functions of the brain. The likeness may be conceived as rep- 
resented on the physical side, not merely by physical contiguity but 
through connecting fibres or parallelisms of modes of motion. Such 
conjectures (which fill so large a place in the psychology of Herbert 
Spencer) have no anatomical value, but to deny a priori their possi- 
bility is to fling down the gauntlet against one of the most cherished 
scientific convictions of the day. Much of the same may be said of 
the exclusion of Werthunterschiede from the parallelism. Nobody 
claims that their quality is explained by any physical process. But 
neither is the quality of a taste or color so explicable. The analysis 
of Werthunterschiede into associated elements of pleasurable and 
painful feeling fills too large a space in contemporary ethics to be 
thus dismissed with a contemptuous fin de non recevoir. The psy- 
chic elements of pleasure and pain yielded by this analysis find their 
parallel in the furtherance or hinderance of the life of the organism. 
This is not, as Wundt claims, a mere transference of psychic Wer- 
thunterschiede to the physical side. Furtherance and hinderance, 


as Leslie Stephen has shown at length, are defined in this connection 
by the Darwinian doctrine of survival. 

These discussions are followed by an amusing and vivacious 
critique of the * materialistic ' psychology of Miinsterberg, Ziehen 
and others. By materialistic psychology Wundt understands the 
psychology that ignores the equal validity of the psychic side of the 
parallelism, and deduces psychic events from physical. His weight- 
iest criticism, however, is directed not so much against the false 
metaphysics of the school as against their doctrinaire simplification 
of the facts of the mental life, their persistent ignoring of the truth 
that for us the psychic side is in every case the most accessible. 
The essential vice of their method is that they do not patiently ana- 
lyze the entire mental life as they find it, but conduct their analysis 
only with the view of winning hypothetical elements, (Bacon's 
advolatio ad maxime. genera/ia), which are first correlated with elemen- 
tary physical processes, and then combined in conjectural syntheses 
to account for everything. All the more complex facts of the mental 
life are then reconstructed a priori by physiological hypotheses about 
memory and sensory cells, connecting fibres and muscular sensa- 
tions, without regard to the creative syntheses involved in all mental 
combinations. Where the quality of the products cannot be ignored 
it is attributed to the elements, and all possibility of further psy- 
chological analysis is precluded. Thus a special spatial and tem- 
poral quality is assigned to all sensations per se y and our complete 
intuitions of space and time are explained as summations of these. 
So Hoffding, to account for recognition, assumes a ' quality of 
familiarity ' resting on physiological habit, and all shades of feeling 
are explained as degrees of painful or pleasurable muscular and 
vaso-motor reflexes. In all these cases the true psychologist de- 
mands in place of this mechanical schematism an analysis of the 
complex state in mental terms, with distinct recognition and descrip- 
tion at each stage of the analysis of the new psychic quality result- 
ing from the combination. Even if we grant a certain symbolic 
truth to Ziehen's explanation of association by sensory and memory 
cells and associative fibres, in what way does so obvious a simplifi- 
cation forward our knowledge of the complicated interaction of 
image and symbol in our higher mental life? Does not the ready- 
made formula, here as elsewhere, check the patient analysis of de- 
tail, which is most fruitful in real knowledge? Wundt does not 
pause for questions of this kind, but makes merry with the whole 
theory, gravely suggesting that instead of saying the sensory cell 
deposits a memory in the memory cell, we should treat the memory 


cell as an organism which feeds on the sensory cell, an hypothesis 
which he elaborates with somewhat ponderous Teutonic wit. Finally 
he points out that this hypothetical anatomy is of even less value to 
the physiologist than to the psychologist. 

Much of the content of Wundt's final and longest chapter on 
psychic causality was anticipated in my introduction to this discus- 
sion. Specific psychic causality is found in all real processes of the 
mental life. For the intensive quote t the sensation, has real existence 
for consciousness only in space and time, and space and time, as we 
have seen, are products of creative psychic syntheses. Wundt's in- 
sistence on this point might seem an injustice to Ziehen, who ex- 
plicitly recognizes that the projection of our sensations into space is 
"one of those psychological facts that are as yet incomprehensible 
in the light of physiological psychology, and that perhaps will 
always remain so." The fact is that in this controversy each party 
has borrowed all that is available of the dialectical equipment of the 
adversary, and that while they try to magnify their differences, their 
real difference is mainly one of taste in the statement of transcen- 
dental or irreducible problems. Wundt attaches value to the psy- 
chological analysis of our spatial perceptions. Ziehen does not; but 
it cannot be said that Ziehen attempts to explain space by physiolog- 
ical processes. Similarly of the controversy about memory, repro- 
duction and association. The so-called laws of association are 
barren formulae, he tells us. The true explanation of any concrete 
association is to be sought in the entire content of the consciousness 
as determined by the totality of its history and original endowment. 
This of course is an endless series. The physiological psychologists 
would simplify the problem by substituting the totality of the brain 
or nervous system, thus shutting us off from all real study of the 
facts. For psychological analysis can to some extent ascertain the 
facts in the past history of a given mind that determine a given 
associative reaction, but psycho-physics is limited to the barren 
generalization that the total consciousness is a reflection of the total 
state of the brain. The psychological analysis, however, will 
always remain on the border line between literature and science, 
and will not appeal to those who lack Wundt's literary skill or whose 
minds are dominated by the ideal of causation that prevails in the 
physical sciences. 

In conclusion the author asks if it is possible to formulate defi- 
nite laws of psychic causality. In the sense in which we speak of 
Kepler's or Galileo's laws, no. For the most characteristic psychic 
states are determinations of quality and worth, which do not admit 


of quantitative formulation. By way of summing up the whole dis- 
cussion, however, Wundt sets up two or three principles as specific 
notes or marks of psychic causality. First, the principle of pure 
actuality of process. This is in substance an adaptation to modern 
conceptions of Aristotle's doctrine that thought is pure energy and 
does not exist as a potentiality. Psychic causes in all cases must be 
real psychic events, for which it is not possible to substitute 
1 things ' and their potencies, whether in the shape of a substantial 
soul, faculties, ready-made ideas or physiological processes. The 
temporary suspension of our consciousness is no objection to this 
view, Wundt thinks, provided a connection can be made out across 
the gap. How he would deal with double and split-off conscious 
personalities he does not indicate. This psychic causality is directly 
and intuitively perceived by self-observation, and thereby differs 
from physical causality, which is purely hypothetical and conceptual. 
It is here that the fundamental opposition between Wundt and the 
opposite school, who hold ultimately of Hume, appears. They 
would deny that we perceive in the sequence of our thoughts a con- 
straining causal force any more than in the communication of force 
from one billiard ball to another. 

With the principle of creative synthesis we are already familiar 
as the main idea of the whole book. The elements used by mechani- 
cal philosophers and psychologists in their constructions lack the 
qualities and the values of the real world of our experience. These 
qualities cannot be got out of the elements unless we grant the 
creative activity of the mind at each stage of the process. This 
principle, asserted against the Epicureans by the ancients, is a con- 
clusive refutation of all attempts, from Lucretius to Herbert 
Spencer, to evolve the heterogeneous out of the homogeneous. 
Wundt is then sound in his main contention, as he is in affirming 
that the task of psychology is to trace the operation of this creative 
synthesis, rather than to elaborate unverifiable conjectures with 
regard to its physical parallels. What I cannot comprehend is his 
denial of the physical parallelism. Suppose, for argument's sake, 
that our analysis has reached elementary units. If these units are 
both psychic and physical, the psychic element has its physical 
parallel, which yet in no way accounts for its quote. Why, then, in 
the same sense, may not combinations of the one set of elements 
correspond in all cases to combinations of the other, though not ex- 
plaining the specific quality that attaches to the compound? Will he 
say that it is because the only conceivable combination of the physi- 
cal elements is spatial and temporal, and space and time themselves 


exist only as products of the psychic syntheses, and imply a pre-ex- 
isting consciousness capable of forming such syntheses? But is not 
this falling back into that idealistic denial of * objects ' from which 
we were told psychology (like the other sciences) must provisionally 
make abstraction? And does it not require for its explanation a 
complete statement of the idealistic philosophy of Wundt? And as 
I said in the beginning, can we be sure that it means anything very 
different from Miinsterberg's admission that the fact of conscious- 
ness, as a whole, has no counterpart in the physical world? Thus 
while we all agree in deprecating the contamination of psychology 
with metaphysics, psychological literature is largely occupied with 
controversy over metaphysical conceptions introduced by the back 



Dr. Munsterberg begins a paper on this subject (PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW, vol. i, p. 39) by stating that the popular and generally re- 
ceived view is that attention does intensify our sensations. Com- 
mon introspection certainly avers that attention as sensing effort 
generally, and within certain limits, is rewarded by increase of sen- 
sation. If I wish to hear better I listen harder; that is, I raise the 
sensation to stronger intensity by attending. I look for a dim star, 
I find it, and, increasing my cognitive effort, it appears brighter up 
to a certain maximum dependent on my state of health, training, etc. 
The keenest, most effortful glance gets the strongest sensation of a 
given light stimulus. 

Fechner's observation that gray paper does not appear lighter the 
harder we look at it, does not destroy the fact that the more intensely 
we sense gray, the stronger is our sensation of it. And it must also 
be said that a dark object may with greater attention be discerned 
as gray, and dark gray as light gray; that is, where attention means 
not closeness of scrutiny, which often tends to close the eyes, but a 
wide open-eyed attempt to get full impression. 

Further, the general theory of evolution leads us to suppose that 
only by attention has sensing and perceiving arisen and been de- 
veloped in the struggle of life. It is by trying hard that the animal 
sees', and the harder it tries the more intensely it sees. Originally, 
then, a sensation becomes intense by attention as intensifying act, 
the sensing act is achieved and developed to various intensities only 
by and as cognitive effort. How is it, then, that an intense sound 


gives us involuntarily, without the least effort, an intense sensation? 
This, we answer, is due to the efforts of ancestors for ages who at first 
were unable to hear the loudest sounds, but gradually achieved the 
hearing them, and hearing them intensely, and this tendency, per- 
fected and integrated as useful in the struggle of existence, has been 
transmitted to us, in whom it acts automatically. 

We believe, then, that if struggle or nisus is the fundamental 
power in the evolution of consciousness, then consciousness inten- 
sities of all kinds must be traced to attention; and so in the evolution 
of sense, attention is practically synonymous with sensation intensity. 
This does not deny that in certain cases of thoroughly integrated 
and automatic sensation cognitive volition when applied may be a 
hindrance, may reduce intensity and effectiveness of the sensation 
which always appear merely as a given. But this is of minor moment 
in a general discussion of attention. That we hear, and hear intense- 
ly, without listening, is because our innumerable ancestors listened, 
and listened hard. And so if future generations are to have certain 
forms and intensities of sensation come to them, it will be by our at- 

It may be evident, but it deserves emphasis, that we do not mean 
by sensation-attention, attending to a sensation. It is sufficient to 
know that where we now have intense sensations without intense at- 
tention, and without attention at all, this is not original and natural 
method, and that even now in general, when we wish to intensify 
our sensations, we exert cognitive effort, and with success. Ex- 
pressed physiologically, it is the doctrine that function determines 
organ; that we see, not because we have eyes, but we have eyes be- 
cause we see. The sensing effort has developed the eye, and by 
visual effort we now open the eyes wide and accommodate them, etc., 
thus securing intensity of sensation. Attending to a sensation is 
weakening to the sensation attended to. Thus, when absorbed in 
listening to music, some one asks me, * Do you hear that false note?' 
the attention to the sensation as such weakens or destroys the sen- 
sation. Sensation-attention is not for us a consciousness outside of 
and directed to sensation, but sensing activity itself as cognitive 
effort. Nor is attention, as Mr. Shand implies, (Mind, Oct., 1894) 
a 'letting alone,' an isolating to see if a psychosis will strengthen, or 
will weaken and disappear. This hereditary spontaneous force of a 
cognition is the integrated result of past attentions, but is itself very 
different from attention as cognitive effort. 

Believing, then, that sensation intensities are bound up with at- 
tention intensities as a general fact of mind, we were interested to 


see how Dr. Miinsterberg's experiments would bear on this law, to 
which he alludes in his opening remarks as the scope of his inquiry. 
However, we discover that it is only a certain kind of attention, ex- 
pectant, and a certain kind of this, too much expectancy, that is 
really treated, with the result that sensations of light, sound, etc., 
are rendered less intense when we set our attention at too high a 
notch. The familiar experience of lifting falsely estimated weights 
is appealed to in a general way, but let us particularize. I see a 
two-pound wooden ball, which I take to be a ten-pound iron ball, and 
making muscular pre-adjustment, according to my misjudgment, it 
lifts 'as light as a feather;' I do not get the impression of a two- 
pound ball lifted with more just preparation or in a mere casual way. 
Thus sensations of weight may in intensity be inversely relative to 
the effort put forth. So if I am bid to look for a bright light or 
listen for a loud sound, and only slight stimuli actually occur, the 
sensations will be actually slighter in intensity than they would other- 
wise have been; the light does not seem so bright nor the sound so 
loud as when no pre-adjustment has been made. Now this result is 
not really * unexpected,' but is quite the 'popular view.' We all 
know the answer which is commonly returned to those who realize 
certain sensations rather feebly, 'you set your hopes too high.' 

But pre-adjustment may be too little as well as too much a fact 
which Dr. Miinsterberg does not notice and the consequence is an 
undue increasing of intensity of sensation. When coming down 
stairs, and inadvertently taking two steps at a time, you have a pe- 
culiar abnormal increase of intensity of sensation, seeming to drop a 
very long distance, altogether disproportional to the actual distance, 
and this result is plainly owing to the wrong degree of pre-adjust- 
ment. Similarly for sensations of light, sound, etc., it is a common 
experience that under-adjustment means over-intensifying sensation. 
It is only when pre-conception and pre-adjustment are in a certain 
exact relation to stimuli that sensation occurs without abnormal 
heightening or lowering. It is well known that reaction-time is 
lessened by correct expectant attention. 

The conditions and methods of the experiments call for some 
criticism. The agents were directed to have their attention ' fully ' 
occupied with adding numbers. Now, adding is a process which is 
with most educated persons more or less automatic unless at top 
speed. But what is ' full ' attention ? Is it a scientifically determi- 
nable state, and one which can be induced as readily as securing air 
full of moisture at what we term saturation point? How can the 
experimenter be sure of attention at a certain degree? The inexact- 


ness of experimental psychics as compared with physics is certainly 
great. The intensity of cognitive effort is neither easily discernible 
or measurable. However, we may say this, that attention at it& 
strongest, is complete absorption of psychic capacity, and an agent 
in this state as regards adding effort would be entirely insensible 
to any stimuli. Further, full attention can only be reached by the 
full interest. When life for a wrecked sailor hangs on his seeing a 
certain beacon, then the intense interest is secured which assures 
intensest attention. But having, if possible, secured the highest at- 
tentions of several individuals, these attentions cannot be lumped 
together as identical in value. The tensile strength of iron bars of 
a given quality may be determined as equal, and the results used as 
a general value; but attention, as all mentality, has an individual 
equation. Again, it may be that the method of measuring intensity 
of sensation employed is the only feasible one, namely, judging in- 
tensity by the estimation the subject puts upon intensity of stimulus, 
still its inexactness is obvious. If a man says after lifting two rocks, 
one is twice as heavy as the other, are we thereby certain that one 
sensation was twice the intensity of the other, or may not the man 
judge also from other methods ? At least the method ought not to 
be assumed without criticism and validation. 

Further, Dr. Miinsterberg finally explains attention as reducing 
intensity of sensation by feeling of strain. A tenseness of attention 
introduces a feeling of strain, which decreases the sensation felt. 
Sense of strain is undoubtedly divisive of consciousness, if with Dr, 
Miinsterberg we interpret it as feeling of intensity. However, we 
do not gain anything by considering intensity of feeling as feeling of 
intensity. I have an intenser light sensation from the sun than 
from a candle, but if I say the intenser sensation is such by virtue 
of the greater feelings of tension, this means no more than that in- 
tensity of the sensation depends upon a sensation of an intense sen- 
sation, which latter intensity has to be explained, and so on. How- 
ever, as I have pointed out, (Mind, XIV., p. 538) it is desirable to 
understand intensity not as a consciousness, but, like duration, as a 
quality. Every consciousness, including consciousness of intensity, 
has its intensity, which may or may not be felt or attended to. 
Strictly speaking, the intensity of my sensation a feeling intensely 
is never feeling of intensity, consciousness of intensity. 

Still further, the 'chosen graduation of the stimuli' must be 
justified in the light of Weber's law, and the time intervals must also 
have their justification. The relation of change in time in attention 
and inattention and unattention to the problem of sensation inten- 


sity must also be investigated if any satisfactory result is to be ob- 
tained. To get exact results in experimental psychology in general 
is then, I am persuaded, an enormously difficult task. The complex- 
ity of adult human consciousness is so great that it seems well nigh 
impossible to isolate the factors we are studying, and to secure 
identical reactions in a sufficiently large number of cases to prove a 
psychic law. Physical conditions are far more under our control 
than psychical, and are far easier to observe, and hence physical 
science has arrived at a consensus which is notably lacking in psychi- 
cal. Essential preliminaries must first be settled before experimen- 
tal psychology can really be fruitful, and the relation of attention to 
intensity of sensation requires far closer definition of subject and 
method than has yet been given it, if results of large scientific value 
are to be obtained. HIRAM M. STANLEY. 



Serious and courteous criticism from the pen of a thinker, skilled 
in the subject of discussion, is certainly in all cases to be welcomed 
by an author, and I feel much gratification in reading Dr. Santay- 
ana's remarks upon my lately-published book 1 in the July number of 
this REVIEW. 

There are one or two points raised in the review which I think 
it worth while to discuss. 

In the first place, in the interest of psychological advance I must 
deprecate the implication of the opening paragraphs ; viz. : that 
the writer of what aims to be a scientific discussion of pyschologic 
doctrine is no great sinner if he consider the claims of literary 
aesthetics in his exposition, where there is the slightest chance that 
the clearness and definiteness of his meaning may thereby suffer. 

I regret much more than my critic can do that the book is so un- 
attractive in its literary quality, but on the whole I do not feel 
confident that I could have made it more pleasing had I not deemed 
it of the utmost importance to aim at accuracy and to waive verbal 
preferences in favor of precision. 

I am free to confess that the reading over and over again of my 
proofs has produced within me a deep-seated digust with many phrasess 
in the book, notably with the compound word pleasure-pain ; but what 
authorized substitute could I have used in this case save the word 

1 Pain, Pleasure and ^Esthetics. 


'feeling'? a word which is truly much more euphonious than the 
one employed, but entirely devoid of accuracy. I do not wish to 
excuse the evil complained of by my critic, a cleverer writer might 
have overcome it ; but I think that it would have been all wrong to 
have chosen in any case literary worth as against definiteness, in 
such a work. 

I raise this point principally because I feel that psychologists to- 
day are too often careless in this regard. They are too apt to 
discard in disgust an awkward but accurate term or phrase and to 
use in its place something of better aesthetic quality but decidedly 
inferior in definiteness. Or they go even further and add emphasis to 
unimportant particulars by the attractive nature of some form of 
speech or of some chance illustration. The extraordinary miscon- 
ception of Prof. James' emotional theory by other psychologists, to 
which he draws attention in the September number of this REVIEW, 
may in my opinion be partly accounted for in this way. I have in 
mind a case in which I myself entirely lost the drift of an interesting 
argument presented in a paper read before the last meeting of the 
Psychological Association, because my mind refused to be dragged 
away from the aesthetic contemplation of a happily-used and beautiful 
quotation to the hard thinking required in following the course of 
the argument. 

In the field which I touch the preference of euphonious but 
inaccurate terms and phrases, where ' barbarous ' but accurate ones 
could be found, has been especially unfortunate in result. 

I am very sure, for instance, that much of the voluminous litera- 
ture of the subject of which I have treated would have remained 
unpublished had the authors avoided the use of * Gefilhl ' in German 
and * Feeling ' in English. Had they used ' pleasure-pain ' (or some 
better equivalent) when and only when they meant it and nothing 
else, many of their most effective periods would have become 
evidently illogical or irrelevant. My critic shall furnish me with an 
example of the danger. It is much pleasanter to speak of the aes- 
thetic as determined by pleasures of memory, than by pleasures of 
revival ; and to avoid repetition I did give way once, I believe, 
and use that term in one of the statedly popular summaries. But 
the pleasures of memory are not all that I refer to. A memory is a 
special kind of revival. Revival therefore is a much broader term 
than memory. What I refer to are revival pleasures, and the use of 
the word memory in this connection at once limits the thought of the 
reader to definite objects : With my critic, the notion that the two 


terms are interchangeable has led him at times to misconceive to 
some extent the thesis presented for examination. 

What has worried me indeed has been not so much the failures 
of style, to which Dr. Santayana calls attention, as the conscious- 
ness that I may possibly have been guilty of the very faults of in- 
accuracy that I deplore in others. 

But to turn to the criticism itself, I have no desire to combat 
objections raised except where they seem to involve misapprehen- 
sion, and I am glad to say that I think all of Dr. Santayana's oppo- 
sitions, as expressed, will disappear upon a clearer apprehension of 
my meaning. 

I hold that there is no "clear distinction between the sense of 
pleasure and the sense of beauty " in impression : and these last two 
words, that I add, are of the very essence of my thesis. The dis- 
tinction which is noticed is one made in judgment upon revivals. 
With these two words added to Dr. Santayana's expression I have 
no hesitation in leaving the cases he brings forward to introspective 
tests. I am sure that for myself when "I have no definite object 
before the mind, but am lost in a torpid reverie " which is pleasant, 
the state of impression is indistinguishable from many of the impres- 
sions that are called distinctly aesthetic ; e. -., the impressions com- 
ing to me as I listen to some parts of Wagner's 'Tristan and 
Isolde ' ; and I have no hesitancy in holding that if an object after- 
wards to be judged beautiful were to appear in connection with this 
reverie, the pleasures of aesthetic impression connected with this 
object would completely fuse with those of the ' torpid reverie. * 
The point of difference lies just in the distinction between the 
aesthetic judgment and the aesthetic impression, the former of which 
always relates to objects or objective states. In this particular case 
the revival of the state of * torpid reverie ' is necessarily associated 
with the torpid object, and for most people such torpid objects or 
their mental states are, in revival, so very insipid that they cannot 
be noticed to be pleasurable and are therefore judged to be un- 
sesthetic. Dr. Santayana says "but this pleasure" (of torpid 
reverie) "would not be aesthetic, because I could not perceive any 
beauty, seeing that no object is present to me in which that beauty 
may reside. " By the words 'would not be aesthetic ' he certainly 
means "would not be called or thought of in retrospect as 
aesthetic " ; he is speaking of what I consider to be a judgment as 
to the nature of revivals. His words, however, would lead one to 
think that he considers this phrase to relate to the direct nature of 
the impression. 


The other case mentioned by my critic is also, I think, distinctly 
in my favor. It is perfectly true that "few pleasures are so vivid in 
revival as those of satisfied vanity, affection, revenge and other per- 
sonal passions," and so far as I have indulged myself in these intox- 
icants I feel sure that I have been aesthetically impressed at the time. 
I am unable to draw any distinction between these pleasurable 
impressions , so long as they remain mere impressions and those other 
impressions produced by what is acknowledged to be beautiful. The 
distinction comes in the revivals upon which we act in judgment, 
when the despicableness of the self-complacency brings a balance of 
pain to a man who is properly constituted. My critic's examples, 
indeed, are not here very forcible, for, in the revivals of the * personal 
passions ' mentioned, I am usually distinctly judging of myself as 
worthy in some respect and therefore as an aesthetic object. 

There is another direction in which I wish to make my position 
clearer. I am one of those who think that too much emphasis is 
given to-day in some quarters to the physiological basis of psychol- 
ogy. I am heartily in sympathy with any investigations that can 
throw light upon psychology, and I think the patience and persist- 
ency of our experimenters in psychophysics is most noble, and, 
except so far as it is misapplied, it certainly should be most heartily 
encouraged and applauded. On the other hand, I feel with many 
of the advanced neurologists that we can only claim to be beginning 
to understand the nature of those neural changes which form the 
basis of psychic life. I do not feel sure that our present notions of 
the relation between mind and body may not seem very crude in a 
few centuries from now, just as those held by the Greek philoso- 
phers do to us to-day. 

Just here it will be convenient and appropriate to call attention to 
a point which relates to this subject-matter, and which supports the 
view just expressed. Two years ago Dr. H. Nichols published in 
the Philosophical Review a defence of a theory that pains are a species 
of sensation. I argued in a reply, which appears again in my book, 
that this view is opposed to psychological evidence, and that the 
facts, mainly physiological and histological, upon which the theory 
depends for its support are, with possibly one exception, entirely 
compatible with other deductions than those made by those uphold- 
ing the sensational theory. This one exception was the claim made 
that Goldscheider had discovered definite nerve-terminals for pain 
in the skin. I objected that in this field the statement of one ob- 
server of a limited number of subjects should be received with cau- 
tion, and I further noted that Goldscheider had implicitly denied the 


position involved in his first statement as it was interpreted, and 
upon which interpretation Dr. Nichols founded his argument. Dr. 
L. Witmer has lately reiterated Dr. Nichols' theory in the Journal of 
Nervous and Mental Diseases for April, 1894, and has sharply called me 
to task for being unwilling to accept as final Goldscheider's supposed 
dictum. Dr. Collins, in his review of my book in the same journal, 
has made the same criticism of my position in this respect. But 
now there comes to hand a new book by Goldscheider. ' Ueber den 
Schmerz, ' Berlin, 1894, which serves I think to teach a lesson to 
all psychologists, and especially to those who may have taken inter- 
est in this discussion ; for in this book Goldscheider distinctly 
denies the view which has been thus attributed to him, and seems to 
think he cannot properly have been held to be a defender of a posi- 
tion so evidently untenable ; although I think his words in his early 
publications certainly spoke clearly as they have been understood. 
Goldscheider now holds (p. 7) that Schmerz is "cine besondere 
Qualitat der Empfindung, nicht eine alien verschiedenen Qualitaten 
gemeinschaftliche Modifikation der Empfindung. " Further (p. 13), 
"dass die Schmerzempfindung den Drucksinn and Gemein-gefiihls- 
nerven eigen ist, alien tibrigen Sinnesnerven aber fehlt. " I do not 
appreciate upon what sufficient grounds he bases his belief in the 
existence of these Gemeingefiihlsnerven (see also p. 33) and of the 
Gemeingefiihlserregungen spoken of elsewhere (see p. 8). He tells 
us further (p. 18), " Hiernach lage es in der That nahe, jeden 
Schmerz als ein Summations-Phanomen anzusehen, allein dies gilt 
nicht ausnahmslos " : and he postulates a ' Summations-Organ ' (see 
p. 34) located in the spinal cord (see p. 19) to account for the effects 
of pain. It does not seem to me that we should receive without 
caution the statements of an investigator who makes such free use 
of unverified hypotheses. 

Goldscheider in this new treatise, if he does nothing else, shows 
conclusively that our knowledge of the nature of the neural changes 
which are the coincidents of pain consciousness is of the most in- 
definite character, open to dispute in every direction, and that no 
physiological or histological theory relating thereto can to-day be 
held to be proved. Moreover, so far as I can see, there is little 
reason to lead us to hope that we shall be able to reach any settled 
position in this respect in the near future. 

This occurrence strengthens within me the conviction with which 
I wish more of our psychologists clearly showed their sympathy, 
that introspective psychology must move on in her development 
without waiting for the positive teaching of psycho-physics ; she 


must of course endeavor to check the results of introspection by 
what becomes known through psychological investigation ; but it 
would surely be a great loss to philosophy and to science in general 
if psychology hesitated in her course while awaiting clear light from 
this source. 

This being my view, it was with regret that I found it impossible 
to discuss adequately in my book that which has been done in the 
past in reference to the physiological basis of pleasure and pain, and 
to suggest the direction in which the facts before us vaguely point, 
without giving relatively much more space to the subject than its 
importance warrants. 

I am disappointed, moreover, to find notices of the physiological 
theory so prominent in the reviews of the book, and especially to 
find Dr. Santayana in this review taking for granted that the basis 
of my aesthetic principles is to be found only in this necessarily 
vague physiological theory. In fact if the reader will take the 
trouble to examine the matter he will find that the basis of these 
aesthetic distinctions and principles is really determined by intro- 
spective evidence and not derived from physiological hypotheses ; 
and that the physiological correspondence, as it would appear under 
my theory, is generally stated in the chapters dealing with these 
principles, in small print in brackets. Thus it appears indeed that 
the psychological aesthetic principles give us a very strong corrob- 
oration of the physiological theory, but I do .not feel that it is evi- 
dent that these aesthetic principles necessarily fall if the physical 
theory crumble into dust, as is implied in this review, and as has 
been asserted by Dr. Jos. Collins in the review in the Journal of 
Nervous and Mental Diseases above referred to. 

It is because I feel the secondary importance of this physiological 
view that I am also greatly disappointed to find my critic holding 
that my r&&\n. psychological thesis turns upon a mere matter of words. 
I had hoped to show that this psychological thesis has strength; and 
that, so far as our knowledge of the physiological aspect of the sub- 
ject goes, the psychological view is not incompatible with that 
knowledge ; for I seem to see that if the psychological view be true, 
and if it be carried out to its consequences, it may lead to results in 
other directions than those especially studied that may prove to be 
interesting at least ; and I had hoped that the results as brought 
forward in relation to the emotions, the art impulse, and the princi- 
ples of aesthetics, might appear to be not wholly valueless, altogether 
apart from any physiological theory whatever. As this psychological 
theory is in my view thus important, I trust that it will not appear 


out of place if I try to convince my critic that it is a great deal 
more than a mere verbal contention that I make. 

In the first place I may again call attention to the dangers at- 
tendant upon the aesthetic treatment of what should be strictly 
accurate science. Dr. Santayana's statement of my proposed defini- 
tion of pleasure and pain is probably pleasanter to his ear than my 
own. Restates that I hold them to be " qualities either of which 
may and one of which must belong to every perception of the mind. " 
But this is not the doctrine I have expressed, unless my phrase 
1 each element of consciousness ' is made equivalent to his ' every 
perception of the mind. ' I do not think the two expressions are at 
all synonymous, and I believe that one must avoid the statement as 
made by him if one is to grasp correctly the thesis and its impli- 

But passing over this inaccuracy, let us turn to his argument 
itself. It is perfectly true that we may equally well say " that color 
is a quality of extension, or that they are two simultaneous percep- 
tions, or that they are both qualities of a present substance. " But 
is it no gain to take note of the fact that at times when there is no 
color perception at all there still may be a consciousness of exten- 
sion ; that other sensations and mental modes than color sensations 
have this consciousness of extension connected with them ? Is no 
importance to be attached to the thesis that extensity may be a 
quality of very wide application ? Can it justly be held that the 
contention of the present day in relation to space, which turns upon 
this thesis, and in which the greatest psychological thinkers of our 
time are involved, that this contention 'turns upon a matter of 
words, ' * becomes real and not verbal only in the field of physiology ' ? 

Or to take another instance more to my liking. The intensity of 
a color may be treated as Dr. Santayana treats its extensity. It 
might be said that the facts may be "described equally well by say- 
ing that color is a quality of" intensity, "or that they are two 
simultaneous perceptions, or that they are both qualities of a present 
substance. " But is it no gain to psychology that more or less of 
intensity is acknowledged to be a quality attached to all elements of 
consciousness ? Would it be of no value to make contention for 
this doctrine were psychology in so crude a state that some masters 
held * intensity ' to be a species of sensation ; others that it is a kind 
of emotion ; others that it is the fundamental basis of all psychic 
life ; others of great weight that a special kind of mind, apart from 
our cognitive mind, must be postulated to enable us to grasp intensity 
/. e. , that intensity is a mental mode sui generis ? Could such con- 


tention, if it were necessary, be held to turn upon a mere matter of 
words, and to become a real question ' and not verbal only in the 
field of physiology ' ? It is such a contention as this that I make 
for pleasure-pain. 



In Wundt's article, Zur Lehre von den Gemiithsbewegungen (Phil. 
Stud., vi, p. 364), occurs the following passage : 

Die Apperception selbst ist nichts, was den Effecten, die sie am 
Vorstellungsinhalte erzeugt, und den Begleiterscheinungen, die sie 
im Gebiet des Gefiihls hat, als etwas besonderes, realiter zu tren- 
nendes gegeniiberstande. Vielmehr besteht sie selbst nur aus diesen 
Begleiterscheinungen und Wirkungen. 

Professor James exclaims, apropos of the last sentence: "A 
thing that consists ' of its concomitants ! " (This REVIEW, I, p. 
516.) The exclamation is hardly fair criticism. We read, p. 390 of 
the same article: 

Zu jenen Begleiterscheinungen reche ich in erster Linie gewisse 
zu Vorstellungen vereinigte Empfindungen, in zweiter Linie die 
Wiliensacte theils vorbereitenden theils mit ihnen unmittelbar ver- 
bundenen Gefiihle. Die letzteren lassen sich jedoch nur auf Grund 
der einmal vollzogenen abstracten Unterscheidung zwischen Ftihlen 
und Wollen Begleiterscheinungen des Willens nennen. In Zusam- 
menhang mit der Entwickelung des Willens betrachtet, verwandeln 
sie sich selbst in Elemente der Willensthatigkeit, die sich aber des- 
halb, weil aus ihnen nicht immer ein actuelles Wollen hervorgeht, 
nun auch in solchen Fallen, wo dieses eintritt, demselben als begrif- 
flich trennbare Bestandtheile gegeniiberstellen lassen. 

It is, of course, really not much fairer to quote two passages 
without context than it is to quote one. But the second of the 
above citations may serve to show that Professor James' scorn is not 
so undoubtedly merited as might at first sight appear. 




Ueber die Trugwahrnehmung (Hallucination und Illusion) mit besonderer 
Berucksichtigung der internationalen enqufae iiber Wachhallucination 
bei Gesunden. EDMUND PARISH. Leipzig, Abel, 1894, [Schriften 
d. Ges. f. psych. Forschung, Heft 7-8; II. Sammlung] Pp. 246. 

The erudition of Herr Parish's work is exemplary and admirable, 
and in its text and footnotes it is safe to say that one may find ref- 
erence to everything, important and unimportant, that in recent 
years has been written on hallucinations from either the medical or 
the psychological point of view. The author's personal contribu- 
tions to the subject are animated by the laudable desire to minimize 
mysteries and to explain the exceptional phenomena of which he 
treats by the laws of ordininary mental life. The important points 
in the book are, first, Herr Parish's general theory of the hallucina- 
tory process, a theory which he applies to all possible cases; and 
second, his verdict of non liquet upon the telepathic theory of veridi- 
cal hallucinations maintained by the English ' psychical researchers. ' 

His theory of the hallucinatory process is that it is always an in- 
cident of 'dissociated* conditions of consciousness. By a dissociated 
condition he means one in which ordinary channels of association 
are obstructed. Reviewing the conditions under which hallucina- 
tion is apt to occur, he finds them predominantly to be of this sort. 
In sleep, in the borderland between sleeping and waking, in melan- 
choly, in hysteria, epilepsy, the delirum of fever, of fasting, and of 
certain narcotic poisonings, in hypnotism and crystal gazing, the fact 
of obstructed associations is admitted by all. Even in mania and 
drunkenness, where association seems at first sight rampant enough, 
this is chiefly verbal association, and objective thought is enfeebled 
and slow. The way in which dissociation facilitates hallucination is 
according to Herr P., this 1 : A stimulus is always drafted off into 
the most pervious paths at the time being. In normal association 

1 Herr P. expressly bases his theory on that of the hallucinatory process given in 
James' Principles of Psychology, II. ii.ff. 



these are the most habitual paths. But there are always many stimuli 
at work, and many < cerebrostatical' conditions determining pervious- 
ness, so that the final process aroused by a stimulus is the result of an 
intricate array of factors. Whatever path is followed to a pause, gives 
there a vivid sensible content which, in normal cases, involves a ver- 
acious perception of the object from which the stimulus comes. But 
if at any moment a dissociative condition is realized, so that the usual 
paths are blocked, whilst at the same moment other accidental paths 
are in a state of exalted tension from inner causes, then into these 
latter the stimulus discharges its energy, making them explode with 
the maximum of force ; so that the result is the perception of an 
object having no usual connection with the stimulus, and by the 
vividness of which the consciousness of the latter may be eclipsed. 
The reigning state of obstructed association moreover weakens the 
subject's critical reaction, and the false perception is not only ex- 
perienced but believed. This theory is ably defended by our author, 
and has the merit of being very general, and of bringing hallucina- 
tions and illusions under a common law. 

Do the sporadic waking hallucinations inquired into by the 
* Census' of the International Congress of Psychologists easily fit 
under this law ? Our author tries to make them do so. First he 
attacks the truth of the Census, in which ' borderland ' cases are 
hardly more than half as numerous as the 'waking* cases. Consid- 
ering this to be a priori impossible, he explains the actual statistics 
plausibly enough by the greater tendency of the borderland cases to 
be forgotten (it being already demonstrated that the majority of all 
hallucinations are forgotten). Next, taking the alleged waking 
cases, he shows by a number of examples that in them also dreami- 
ness or some other dissociated consciousness may be supposed The 
Subject was 'fixating' something, if no stronger reason can be al- 
leged. I must say that Herr Parish seems to me here to drive his 
theory a little too hard. Many of the narratives so distinctly be- 
long to normal consciousness, that the better tactics would be to 
discredit their veracity altogether ; and this method also, Herr 
Parish applies vigorously to the particular class of hallucinations 
called veridical or coincidental (e. g., with the death of the person 

Prof. Royce's suggestion that the narratives are often due to 
'pseudo-presentiment' (false belief, after the death has happened, 
that it had been symbolized by an apparition previously) is made 
liberal use of, in spite of its almost absolutely conjectural character. 
The much sounder objection follows that genuinely occurring hallu- 


cinations are equipped afterwards, by the retrospective imagination 
of their percipients, with details that fit those of the event with 
which, when it happens, they are supposed to be connected. This 
especially applies to them where they are collective, the different 
percipients obeying each other's suggestion as to what they saw. 
Finally the false appearance of frequency of hallucinations of the 
coincidental class is explained by the far greater tendency of the 
non-coincidentals to become forgotten, the coincidentals resisting 
oblivion. Furthermore, Herr Parish contends that the ' frequency ' 
of the coincidental should in any discussion as to their being due to 
chance be set down as the ratio of their number to that of hallucina- 
tions of all varieties, and not to that of their own variety, which- in 
the argument of the English committee is defined as that of 'appa- 
ritions of recognized living persons. ' For all these reasons, Herr 
Parish concludes, the alleged frequency of the veridical class ef 
hallucinations becomes so reduced as to form no argument against 
the genuine cases among them being due to chance. Moreover, he 
adds, we cannot lump the cases in one order of probability;. 
Where for example the percipient is the anxious child of an aged 
parent ill with pneumonia, the chances are that if she have an hallu- 
cination at all, it will have that parent for its subject. 

Herr Parish's criticisms are partly based on the provisional re- 
port of the English committee published at the International Congress 
of 1892. The committee have themselves considered such objec- 
tions in their final report, which forms the subject of our next article. 
So I will immediately proceed to give some account of that. I will 
say meanwhile that this German critic's tone is uniformly respect- 
ful ; that he himself prints the 59-yes cases of the Munich Census, 
of which ii are more or less coincidental ; and finally that his work 
is the most solid existing contribution to the subject up to the date 
of the report whose title follows below. 

Apparitions and Thought Transference, an Examination of the Evidence for 
Telepathy. FRANK PODMORE. Contemporary Scientific Series. 
New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1894. 12, pp. 401. 

Mr. Podmore gives here a convenient summary of the work of the 
Society for Psychical Research, striving to make the theory of tele- 
pathy cover as much of the field as it can be stretched over. When 
one sees brought together, as here in the early chapters, the evi- 
dence for thought-transference drawn from the simple experiment 
in which one person is set to guessing numbers, drawings, etc., which 
another person is intently looking-at or thinking-of, one perceives 


that it is far from contemptible in either quality or amount, and 
even if one is unwilling oneself to follow, one can find no very harsh 
names to apply to those who, like Mr. Podmore, take thought-trans- 
ference as an approved vera causa, and try by its means to explain 
such phenomena as apparitions at the time of death, distinct in 
nature as they appear at first sight to be from the successful guess- 
ing of pictures in another's mind. 

The book mentions successful experiments of the simple order 
with at least thirty subjects at short-range, and this leaves out 
many of the records published in the S. P. R. Proceedings. Of 
course these experiments are of diverse value, some of them being 
too brief or too faulty in method to base strict conclusions on, but 
they all contribute to the cumulative impression that chance and 
trickery can with difficulty be supposed to be the only things con- 
cerned. As an instance of a good series I take the observations 
of Mrs. Sidgwick on five hypnotized subjects who guessed numbers 
drawn by a third person from a bag containing 81 lotto-counters 
{.marked from 10 to 90, and handed to the hypnotizer to gaze at, all 
this of course out of sight of the subject. Out of 644 trials 131 were 
successful, that is, both digits were given correctly, though in 14 
out of the 131 cases the order was reversed. ' Chance ' should only 
have given 8 correct guesses. Again, with hypnotizer and subject 
in different rooms, there were 27 quite correct guesses, instead of the 
chance-number, 3. In the unsuccessful trials here, the first digit 
came right 85 out of the 252 times, instead of the chance number, 
28. Mrs. Sidgwick went through another series with the same 
subjects, in which * mental pictures ' were the things to be guessed, 
some of them being quite complex scenes, in all 108 experiments, 
of which 33 were correct. Of these trials, 55 were made with the 
agent and percipient in different rooms, so that the successes in the 
same room were 31 out of 71. Practically, since collusion seems 
fairly excluded, the only recourse of the doubter here is to say that 
the series were too short and that farther experimentation would 
have reduced the success to the chance-number. And here is 
where the force of so many other successful series, longer or shorter, 
comes in. They make the reader feel as if the dice must be in some 
way loaded ; and to the force that loads them Mr. Podmore and his 
colleagues have given a name, that, namely, of telepathy, in lieu of 
a theory about it. It is clear that many series of guesses with more 
successes than the probability due to chance can yield, will not posi- 
tively prove that chance may not have produced the result after all; 
and it is still clearer that such statistics are no guide as to what the 


positive force may be. And here the other phenomena gone over 
by Mr. Podmore come in to give some feeble help. But they run into 
a mass of details ill adapted for synopsis, so with this brief notice I 

Report on the Census of Hallucinations. H. SIDGWICK, A. JOHNSON, 
F. W. H. MYERS, F. PODMORE, E. M. SIDGWICK. Proceedings 
of the Society of Psychical Research. Part XXVI. Aug., 1894. 
Vol. X., pp. 25-422. 

This extraordinarily thorough and accurate piece of work is 
understood to be the fruit mainly of Mrs. Sidgwick's labors; and 
the present reviewer, who has had a little experience of his own with 
the 'Census,' and knows something of its difficulties, may be 
allowed to pay his tribute of admiration to the energy and skill 
with which that lady and the other members of the committee have 
executed their burdensome task. They collected no fewer than 
17,000 answers to the question: have you had, when awake, etc., an 
hallucination, etc. Of these answers 2,272 were 'yes,' and these 
Yes-cases were corresponded with or interviewed or in other ways 
subjected to as critical a scrutiny as circumstances allowed. The re- 
sult is an unusually careful handling of the raw material offered, and 
a great accession of new facts. The census of hallucination was, as 
is well known, an idea of the late Edmund Gurney, who thought that 
the theory of chance-coincidence applied to 'apparitions' reported 
as occurring on the day of death of the person appearing might be 
tested by statistics. Gurney himself collected 5705 answers, and, 
applying statistical reasoning to them, thought it superabundantly 
proved that the 'veridical' cases amongst them were too frequent to 
be due to chance. The Sidgwick report, unlike that of Herr Parish, 
keeps the Gurney question well to the front, and its general discus- 
sion of the physiological and other conditions of the hallucinatory 
process is less erudite and elaborate than that of the German writer. 
I will quote immediately the conclusions of the report as to ap- 
paritions at the time of death. "We have 30 death-coincidences in 
1300 cases [of visual hallucination of recognized living persons] or 
about i in 43. But chance would .... produce death-coinci- 
dences at the rate of i in 19,000 apparitions of recognized living 
persons, and i in 43 is equivalent to about 440 in 19,000, or 440 times 
the most probable number. Or, looking at the matter in a different 
way, we should expect that if death-coincidences only occur by 
chance, it will require 30 times 19,000, or 570,000 apparitions of liv- 
ing persons to produce 30 such coincidences We eon- 


elude then that the number of death-coincidences in our collection, 
if our estimate of them is accepted as fair, is not due to chance. 
This will not be maintained by anyone with the most elementary ac- 
quaintance with the doctrine of chances. The opponent of a tele- 
pathic or other supernormal explanation must take one of three 
other lines of argument, . . . even one death-coincidence being 
more than we should be justified in expecting chance to produce in a 
collection ten times the size of ours" (p. 247-8). 

Everything in this conclusion depends on the numerical premises 
being severally reached in legitimate ways. 

In the first place, take the assumption that out of 19,000 appari- 
tions of the sort considered, only i should be expected to occur on 
the day of death of the person seen. This is based on the mean 
death-rate of England. Since in England the mean annual death- 
rate at present is 19.15 per 1,000 of population, the mean daily 
death-rate must be 365 times less, or i in about 19,000. All daily 
operations concerning persons, if not directly contingent upon their 
death, would under these conditions be more likely to strike the 
living than the dying in the proportion of 19,000 to i, and this no 
matter how frequent or infrequent absolutely such operations should 
prove to be. Apparitions are operations concerning persons; and 
whether such apparitions be as frequent as dreams, or whether they 
be very rare, whether a large fraction or a small fraction of the 
population be visited by them, we should expect (if they be due to 
mere chance) always to find this proportion observed, that only 
iflooo of them should be of people who were dying on the day when 
their apparition took place. [This 'day' is measured in the report 
by the 12 hours preceding and the 12 hours following the death.] 
To the present writer this reasoning and computation seem valid. 1 

1 In particular does the contention of Herr Parish (see the article on him, above, 
ad finent) seems inadmissible. He says that in estimating the probability that appari- 
tions at the time of death are due to something more than chance we ought to measure 
their frequency by the ratio of their number to that of the aggregate of all phantasms 
of whatsoever description. He would even include illusions, since the process of 
illusion and hallucination are for him fundamentally the same. To base an argument 
on the ratio between the number of veridical death-apparitions and that of merely all 
apparitions of recognized living persons ; he says, is a petitio principii. The point is 
a subtle one, and may well make one momentarily hesitate, but reflection leaves no 
permanent doubt. We have three orders of frequency in hallucinations to consider, that 
of hallucinations at large, that of hallucinations of persons, and that of hallucinations 
of dying persons. These may be caused by their respective objects, or may come at 
'random,' their causes lying exclusively in the subjective cycle. The point is to see 
whether anything in the frequency itself can help us to decide which of these alterna- 
tives is the true one. Now with what frequency in outer things might these frequencies 


Next, how are the numbers 1,300, for the whole number of 
visual apparitions of recognized living persons, and 30 for the coin- 
cidental ones among them, established ? Neither of these numbers 
is that of the crude face of the census-returns, each being a number 
estimated by applying certain corrections to those returns, the cor- 
rections all being such as to weight the figures in favor of chance- 
coincidence as far as this can with any plausibility be done. The 
crude returns certainly include an unduly large percentage of coin- 
cidental apparitions, partly because a large number of non-coinci- 
dental ones are speedily forgotten and do not figure in the returns, 
and partly because, of the coincidental ones, some are likely to have 
been put in by careless collectors on account of that character, and 
not to have simply turned up in the census-taking by due process of 
chance. Now can any definite estimate be made of the amount of 
error that has crept into the census from these sources ? The 
authors of the report find, by comparing the dates of the returns, 
that cases are the more frequent the more recent they are. This 
proves a forgetfulness increasing with antiquity. The obvious remedy 
would be, ascertaining what recent period could be taken as trust- 
worthy, to find out how many hallucinations had visited the 
persons figuring in the census during that time, and then to treat 

in hallucinations keep tally in the two cases, of outer causation and of no outer causa- 
tion respectively ? Obviously if persons do not cause hallucinations of themselves, 
the hallucinations of persons should be no more frequent among hallucinations than 
persons are frequent among all the things that may become objects of hallucinations ; 
whilst on the contrary, if persons, and persons alone, do cause hallucinations, then 
hallucinations of persons should be relatively more frequent than other hallucinations, 
because the causation by the real outer object would be simply added, for this class alone, 
to the random inner causes that produce hallucinations in general. Similarly if the deaths 
of persons do not tend to cause hallucinations of those persons, the hallucinations of 
the dying should be no more frequent among hallucinations of persons than the dying 
themselves are frequent among persons ; whilst if on the contrary the dying, and the 
dying alone among persons, do cause hallucinations of themselves, then these hallu- 
cinations should be more frequent among hallucinations of persons than the dying are 
among the whole population of persons. This latter ratio is what the Sidgwick com- 
mittee finds realized in fact ; hence its conclusion that the dying do cause halluci- 
nations of themselves. Herr Parish's selection of the total number of hallucinations 
iiberhaupt as one subjective term of comparison leads to a statistical test which is also 
true in theory, provided the corresponding objective terms be altered to match. We 
shall then have (if dying persons do not cause hallucinations of themselves) this propor- 
tion : As is the ratio of real dying persons to all other real things, so at its highest 
should be the ratio of hallucinations of the dying to all other hallucinations whatso- 
ever. But although there is no theoretic objection to this proportion, it is practically 
worthless, because we have no statistical data by which to compute the ratio of dying 
persons to all other real things. 


the earlier part of their lives as if, in spite of their yielding smaller 
'returns,' they must really have included as large a number, pro- 
portionally, of similar experiences. Taking the past 3 months as 
the trustworthy period, and considering visual cases alone, the 
authors of the report agree that the face-returns should be multiplied 
by 4, in order to represent the true number of 'apparitions' seen by 
their informants. But, as the total number of specifically described 
apparitions of recognized living persons returned in the census equals 
350, and 350x4=1,400, the round number of 1,300 may be taken as 
probably near the figure sought. 1 

The whole number of death-coincidences amongst the 350 cases 
in question is 65, or 62 when 3 cases known to be selected by their 
collectors are struck out. There is no ground for supposing that 
death-coincidences tend to be forgotten by their percipients : On 
the contrary the cases appearing in the census date with dispropor- 
tionate frequency from by-gone decades. This, of course, may be 
due to the fact that the number 62 is too small to give true aver- 
ages when distributed over the 36 years covered. But to be on the 
side of severity the committee assume that the proportion reported 
from the last decade is the only normal one, and that the earlier 
stories may be false, and (by a computation based on figures which need 
not here be reproduced) they knock off 22 on this account from the 
total of death-apparitions to be used, and make it 40 instead of 62,. 
just the opposite treatment to that which they applied to the gross 
group of 350 cases of which these death-cases are a part. From these 
40 they again knock off 8 as an ample allowance for possibly unre- 
ported selection on the collector's part 2 , and again 2 for good 
measure and as a sop to the adversary, so that finally the reduced 
number of 'veridicals' to be compared with the augmented number 
of veridicals and non-veridicals taken together, falls to the figure 30 
which is used in the conclusion quoted from the report on a previous 

1 The period of three months is found trustworthy when 'suspicious* cases are 
eliminated. Suspicious cases are those where the appearance may not have been an 
hallucination. Figures seen in a bad light, or through an open door in passing, or at 
a distance in the open air, are included in this category. Study of the cases reported 
to have occurred within three months of the accounts given, shows that these ' sus- 
picious' ones are rarest in the first month, and are therefore presumably peculiarly 
liable to oblivescence. But if they are counted in, one month and not three months 
becomes the trustworthy period, and the multiplier of the crude returns must then be 
changed from 4 to (>j4. The influence of this counting of suspicious cases is con- 
siderably to enlarge the total of hallucinations to be supposed, and to make the odds in 
favor of the coincidental ones being due to something else than chance sink from 440 
to 292 against I. 

"The data for computing this number of 8 are given on p. 243 of the report. 


The reader will appreciate the candor of the committee, and see 
how earnestly they have sought to eliminate all that might add 
specious color, as distinguished from real weight, to their own 
side. The reader whom their argument does not impress will have, 
they say, to take one of three courses. He may deny the accuracy 
of the coincidental cases, to which the reply of the committee con- 
sists in printing 31 good ones as a sample. He may still insist 
that the collectors have loaded their returns with an excessive num- 
ber of these cases, to which the reply is too minute for quotation 
here (pp. 57 and 210 of the Report) but amounts to a detailed proof 
that there is probably no overloading of the returns in general with 
yeses, and to good reason shown for the opinion that of the 62 coin- 
cidental apparitions taken as a basis for the enquiry, at most 10 can 
be assumed as possibly added deliberately by the collectors to their 
returns. But these have been eliminated in the reduced number of 
30, finally admitted to count in the argument. Thirdly the objector 
may say that many of the veridical apparitions are causally connected 
with the death, but not by telepathy or any other vis occulla. The 
illness of an aged person is the cause both of death and of anxiety 
among relatives. Anxiety is proved by the committee's own facts 
to predispose to hallucination 1 ; so both the hallucination in such 
cases and the death can be common effects of a single natural 
cause, the illness, working on two persons. This, it will be remem- 
bered, is Parish's final objection, mentioned above ; and the report 
treats it as important. At the same time the authors point out that 
there are but 23 cases of the 62 veridicals in which the illness was 
known beforehand, and only in some of these was there anxiety. 
Moreover the close coincidence in hour of the death with the appa- 
rition in so many cases seems to preclude the application on a large 
scale of a cause like anxiety which in the nature of things must have 
lasted many hours or days. 2 

1 Anxiety about illness was probably present in 89 out of the 1622 cases of which 
there are first-hand accounts, and grief about death in 42 of the other cases, making 
nearly 1-12 of the whole number. As we don't spend 1-12 of our lives in grief and 
anxiety of these sorts it must be that during these emotions hallucinations come with 
undue frequency. 

2 Mere expectation, which often causes illusions, seems to play no important part 
in causing hallucinations. At least the committee find only 14 cases in the whole col- 
lection where the phantasm was of a person for whose arrival the percipient was look- 
ing out. They give cases where ' suggestion ' may be reckoned a cause (collective 
cases, prediction of apparition at spiritist seance, etc.), but these are ambiguous, and 
if occult agency be once admitted as a possibility, are perhaps as likely to be caused by 
that as by ' suggestion '. 


It will thus be seen that the committee have considered on their 
own account all the difficulties urged by Herr Parish (with the excep- 
tion of the 'pseudo-presentiment ' hypothesis of Royce) and that they 
have considered them in a more objective and less conjectural way 
than he, without their case being weakened to any certain extent. 1 
Plainly, though, if the 30 cases left to be used in the argument 
could all have been first-class cases (with record of hallucination be- 
fore event, no anxiety, etc.) the argument would have been more 
convincing. But the successive weedings of the crude number 62 
could not be performed selectively so as to accomplish just this re- 
sult, and the Census is therefore still too small for knock-down proof 
of occult cause. If telepathy be regarded on other grounds as pos- 
sible, then these statistics make it extremely probable. Otherwise 
they will not convert the disbeliever, who will pooh-pooh the statis- 
tical method in toto when it takes 17,000 answers to get 30 good 
cases to cipher with, saying that the field is too vast and lean for 
profitable reaping, that figures got by applying so many hypothetical 
corrections to inaccurate crude data, savor too much of guess-work 
to inspire confidence, and that cooked returns are cooked returns, 
even though, like these, they be cooked for the safe side, the side 
adverse to the conclusion reached by their means. 2 

This sort of reception by the hard-hearted is inevitable, and it is 
useless to ask how strictly logical it may be, for belief follows 
psychological and not logical laws. A single veridical hallucination 
experienced by one's self or by some friend who tells one all the 
circumstances has more influence over the mind than the largest 
calculated numerical probability either for or against. I can testify 
to this from direct observation. The case will, therefore, still hang 

1 The only criticism I can make is that the committee have possibly been too indul- 
gent to the cases where the percipient was in bed. His conviction that he was awake 
is to be taken with large allowance under these circumstances. 

a The figure 4, for example, used as a multiplier of the crude returns in correction 
of forget fulness, is reached by this process : out of 87 visual hallucinations reported 
for the most recent year, 42 are stated to have occurred within the most recent quarter, 
and of these 19 within the most recent month, and 12 within the most recent half- 
month ; numbers which correspond approximately to 168, 228, and 288 per annum 
instead of 87. But if from the 87 the 'suspicious' cases as described above are elimi- 
nated, and the most recent quarter examined, the figures are much more even. There 
are 12 suspicious cases in the recent quarter; so that then 30 instead of 42 becomes 
the number to be counted in the quarter. Of these the last month shows 12, and the 
last half-month 5, numbers which correspond to 120, 144, and 120 per annum 
respectively. This looks like distribution by 'natural law,' provided the evenness of 
the figures be not accidental. But where such small numbers are involved, how can 
one be sure on that point? 


pending before public opinion, in spite of the laborious industry of 
Mrs. Sidgwick and her colleagues. Of course if the results of the 
American Census, not yet published, should correspond, that will 
add retroactive weight. But the most that can be said, so far, in 
the opinion of the present writer, is this, that the Sidgwick report 
affords a most formidable presumption that veridical hallucinations are 
due to something more than chance. Now this means that the 
telepathic theory, and whatever other occult theories may offer 
themselves, have fairly conquered the right to a patient and re- 
spectful hearing before the scientific bar; and no one with any real 
conception of what the word ' Science ' means, can fail to realize 
the profound issues which such a fact as this may involve. 



A Study of Ethical Principles. JAMES SETH. New York: Imported 
by Charles Scribner's Sons. 1894. Pp. XVI, 460. 

The subject is presented in three parts; (I) an analysis of the 
psychological basis of ethical principles, and criticism of the cor- 
responding systems; (II) a discussion of the virtues, under the 
caption of The Moral Life; and (III) the metaphysical implications 
of ethics. In Part I, Prof. Seth criticises Hedonism as unduly em- 
phasizing the sentient nature of man on the one hand, and so-called 
Rigorism on the other as laying exclusive stress upon man's rational 
nature. Each is based upon a partial psychology, and hence incom- 
plete and misleading. He would therefore distribute the emphasis, 
so that the total personality embracing both sensibility and reason 
is regarded as the proper basis of ethical principles. This person- 
ality differs from the lower, or animal self-hood of mere individuality 
in the power of transcending the entire impulsive and sentient life, 
subduing it unto the higher rational self. This power constitutes 
the will, and differentiates man from the animal. Following the 
epistemological analogy, as the Ego constructs the various data of 
sensation through the apperceptive process, forming out of them an 
object of knowledge, so in the construction of the moral end out of 
the impulses, there is a similar synthesis of the crude data of sensi- 
bility. Prof. Seth's ideal, therefore, is self-realization, and his 
ethical system he styles Eudaimonism, wishing to restore its original 
Aristotelian significance which presented pleasure as * the very 
bloom and crown of goodness.' We question the propriety of using 


a word so strongly associated with Hedonism, to characterize a sys- 
tem which subordinates the pleasure elements to a superior ideal. 
It seems more appropriate to classify Prof. Seth among the following 
of Hegel and Green, on account of the prominence of the idea of 
self-realization in his scheme. He, however, contends that they 
have under-estimated the sharpness of the existing dualism, in affirm- 
ing the essential rationality of the life of sensibility; and that the 
full force of the antithesis must be appreciated in order to realize 
that complete synthesis where inclination and duty are one. 

Prof. Seth criticises Rigorism as presenting an abstract formal 
law of conduct, which, however, is devoid of any definite content. 
But does he himself escape a like imputation ? inasmuch, as since 
his ethical ideal is the realization of self-hood, or personality, the 
question naturally arises, what self ? What kind of personality ? It 
is the self constituted by the common rational Ego in each individ- 
ual. But such an ideal is formal, and as truly lacks a definite con- 
tent, so that we are confronted by the old difficulty in a new form. 
In Part III, the metaphysical implications of ethics, the author treats 
of freedom, God and immortality as necessitated by his doctrine of 
personality. Since self is more than the sum total of sensations, it 
is so far forth superior to the sensuous stream of consciousness, and 
therefore free. Also self seeks a larger environment than Nature, 
that is God; whence immortality is naturally deduced. This also 
furnishes a supplement to the Kantian theory of Autonomy, inas- 
much "as the moral law is the echo within our souls of the voice of 
the Eternal, whose offspring we are." 

The Kantian Epistemology and Theism. C. WIST AR HODGE. Philadel- 
phia, MacCalla & Co., 1894. Pp. 47. 

The author criticises Kant's epistemological position, because he 
does not follow it out to its logical conclusion. Kant's primary pre- 
supposition that all things exist only in relation to self-consciousness 
necessitates a second presupposition deducible from it, namely, that 
the real is the rational. This is overlooked; and the spirit of Kant's 
teaching as well as the logic demands its recognition. Dr. Hodge 
contends that the ideas of reason must be more than mere logical 
universals; that there is a necessary and vital connection between 
knowledge and being within our consciousness, that the activity of 
the mind necessitates its universality and reality; that there is a 
unity of organic experience, and an objectivity of the categories. 
By an acute analysis of Kant's position, he seeks to prove the neces- 
sity of these supplementary propositions, especially as throwing light 


upon Kant's theistic criticism. He shows that there is need to em- 
phasize God's immanence as well as His transcendence. The two 
ideas are not mutually exclusive but are realized in one self-conscious 
and personal spirit; and Kant's criticism of theistic arguments pro- 
ceeds upon the basis of a transcendent Being merely, the mechani- 
cally conceived God of Deism. Finality also must be conceived as 
an objective fact; and this strengthens the reasonableness of the 
theistic position. Moreover the Kantian ethics in relation to theism, 
overlooks the fact that the self-revealing spirit can be like us because 
we are formed in His image; and if our noumenal self carry with it 
a moral ideal, so must God also be conceived as possessed of moral 

The ^Esthetic Element in Morality and its Place in a Utilitarian Theory of 
Morals. FRANK CHAPMAN SHARP. New York, Macmillan & 
Co., 1893. Pp. 131. 

The problem presented in this work is to determine the place of 
beauty of character in the moral world. Dr. Sharp approaches this 
problem from two different sides. First as to its origin, he contends 
that every attempt to make beauty of character the primary product 
of the moral forces is doomed to failure, and he insists that their 
original goal is the general happiness according to a utilitarian 
criterion of right and wrong. In the elaboration of this, he shows 
affinity of thought with Shaftsbury and Hutcheson. From a second 
point of view, he discusses the question of values, and reaches the 
conclusion that beauty of character is but one of the many sources 
of aesthetic emotion, and that its attraction for us is due to the 
pleasure it affords, the worth of which is to be measured by the same 
scale which we apply to the other emotions. In all this, the author 
seems to us to be himself alive to his omission of the idea of obliga- 
tion as an essential factor. For he supplements his discussion by an 
analysis of the idea of oughtness. This is for him in the main, the 
pressure of the accumulated judgments of society upon the individual 
consciousness. This overlooks the principle of autonomy; and man's 
will then feels obligation only as imposed from without. This is 
especially unsatisfactory where Dr. Sharp speaks of the * theological 
ought.' He regards God in the same manner as society, or our 
fellow men in general, one of the powers without, which expect from 
us certain lines of conduct. Such a view makes obligation unreal, 
by presenting it as a force both arbitrary and artificial. 





Ueber die Histogenese der Korner der Kleinhirnrinde. ERNST LUGARO. 
Anatomische Anzeiger, No. 23, 1894. 

Recent studies in the development of the nervous system have 
brought to light some interesting and curious migrations of nerve 
cells. His showed that the neuroblasts arising from germinal cells 
about the central canal must migrate to the different parts of gray 
matter in which they underwent their further development. The 
migration of a spherical cell probably possessing amoeboid powers is 
familiar enough from the manner in which the leucocytes travel 
through the fixed tissues. But in some way nerve elements, if the 
interpretations given are correct, must traverse the tissues even 
after their prolongations have been formed. 

The paper in question is a research on the granules or small cells 
of the cerebellum. On the surface of the developing cerebellum is 
a layer of epithelium like cells with one process passing directly 
towards the surface and the other more or less in the opposite direc- 
tion. These elements shade off by intermediate forms into dineuric 
cells, the two neurons of which run parallel with the cortical surface. 
Among those lying somewhat deeper, appear dineuric elements from 
which a dendritic process has begun to grow away from the surface. 
Just as in the case of the dineuric cells of the spinal ganglia, the 
neurons come to lie more and more at one side of the cell body ; 
finally a stem is formed and this stem lengthens, the cell bodies 
sinking deeper into the granular layer. The dendritic processes 
appear first as a single conical outgrowth, then become branched, 
multiple and shorter, and finally decrease in number with the form- 
ation of the characteristic brushes at their termini and become identi- 
cal with the cells of the fully developed granular layer, the very long 
stem of the neuron passing into the molecular layer and terminating 
in the T process now so well known from the studies of Cajal, Kol- 
liker and others. 

If this is a true history of the development of these granules, the 
author is justified in his conclusions: (i) The position of the nerve 
cells during embryonic life is not necessarily that which it will finally 
hold. (2) The neuron grows not only at its ends but also through- 
out its entire length, thus permitting the cell body to wander. (3) 
While the neuron undergoes a gradual and progressive development, 
the dendritic processes may at some intervening time be better de- 
veloped than they are at the end of growth. 

The disappearance of the primitive and intermediate forms as the 


final form becomes more abundant, is one of the arguments in favor 
of the author's view; but there is no escaping the conclusion that 
not only the cell-body with its dendrons must then move through 
the surrounding substance, but the neuron with its termination also 
moves. While therefore the argument in favor of these changes 
appears complete, it requires us to admit that the nerve cell with all 
its prolongations may, during, growth, sink through the substance of 
the cerebellum, like a bullet through a plate of wax. 

Although these experiments do not stand alone, nevertheless so 
difficult is it to accept this explanation that careful control observa- 
tions on displacements due to the enlargement of other nerve struc- 
tures should be made before entertaining too seriously the conclu- 
sions to which these results apparently point. 

Beitrag zur Kentniss der Pathologischen Anatomic der Paralysis agitans 
und deren Eeziehungen zu gewissen Nervenkrankheiten des Greisen- 
alters. EMIL REDLICH. Jahrbiicher f. Psychiatric, Bd. XII. 
Heft 3. 

In connection with the changes occurring in the nerve cells in 
old age, the observations on the nervous system in paralysis agitans 
are of importance. The paper by Ketscher, 1892, on this subject, 
indicated that the appearances found in the nervous system of the 
aged suffering from paralysis agitans were in kind similar to those 
found in persons who, though aged, did not exhibit this disease. 
The difference between the appearances in the two sets of cases 
were in his opinion mainly one of degree. 

In view of Ketscher's publication, Redlich gives his results in a 
condensed form, as they are mainly confirmatory, though in part di- 
vergent. In paralysis agitans the spinal cord is especially affected, 
and in it the lumbar and cervical enlargements are the centres of 
greatest change. Here the most marked alterations are in the lat- 
eral and dorsal columns where there is a sclerosis with atrophy of 
the nerve fibres, vascular changes with the formation of amyloid 
bodies, while the cells in the ventral horns and the columns of 
Clarke are often so pigmented as to obscure the nucleus. In other 
portions of the central and peripheral system similar changes occur, 
though they are less intense. 

Redlich urges a sharper distinction between the condition of the 
central nervous system in uncomplicated old age and those found in 
paralysis agitans. He would separate the pathological anatomy in 
these latter cases from those of simple senility by the greater changes 
in the blood vessels and formation of sclerotic areas due to the in- 


crease in the supporting tissues, changes which do not necessarily 
accompany the involutionary process in the central system. 

Histological changes induced in sympathetic, motor, and sensory nerve-cells 
by functional activity. (Preliminary note). GUSTAV MANN. Jour, 
of Anat. and Physiol., N. S., Vol. IX., Part I., October, 1894. 

Previous to this publication, there have been current two state- 
ments concerning the effect of electrical stimuli on the size of nerve- 
cells and their nuclei. Hodge, working with weak faradic currents, 
applied intermittently, but for a long time, to the sensory spinal 
nerves of the frog and cat, found the cells of the spinal ganglia thus 
fatigued, to be shrunken. Vas, with stronger stimuli applied for 
fifteen minutes to the trunk of the cervical sympathetic of the rab- 
bit, found the bodies and the nuclei of the sympathetic cells thereby 

To the examination of this discrepancy the author has directed 
his observations. He repeated Vas' experiments under his condi- 
tions, and obtained similar results; a swelling of the cell-body, its 
nucleus, and the structures within the nucleus. On examining parts 
of the nervous system of a dog after prolonged muscular exercise, 
the motor cells in the lumbar region of the cord were found to ex- 
hibit the characteristic shrinkage described by Hodge, while cells 
from the motor region of the cortex showed swollen bodies and 

When the two retinae of a dog were compared, one retina having 
been at rest while the other had been stimulated, both results were 
obtained within the limits of the same retina; the nuclei of the rods 
showing decided shrinkage while those of the middle ganglion-cell 
layer were swollen. 

These differences lead the author to suggest that activity in nerve 
cells is accompanied by an increase in volume, whereas fatigue is as- 
sociated with the reverse change. These terms are not happily 
chosen, since both apply equally well to the entire series of changes 
taking place in the cell. With the commencement of activity, fa- 
tigue commences and they continue together as different aspects of 
a single process. It would therefore be better to distinguish be- 
tween the earlier and later phases of one or the other. In the early 
stages of fatigue, associated with enlargement, M. finds that the 
cell, and especially the nucleus, become chromophobic, and it is in- 
teresting to note that in his study of the mature cells, in the cervical 
enlargemenc of the mammalian cord, Kaiser found the chromophobic 
cells to have the greater mean diameter. 


Like all such matters the histological changes accompanying the 
functional activity of nerve cells, becomes more complicated, the 
further it is examined, and it is to be hoped, that it will in this 
instance be possible to unravel these apparently opposite reactions 
without any obfuscation of the main point, due to the neglect of the 
mechanical conditions of experiment, or of the full record concern- 
ing the species, age, sex and physiological condition of the animals 

Quelques observations expe'rimentales sur r influence de Vinsomnie absolute. 
MARIE DE MANACEINE. (Address made before the International 
Medical Congress held at Rome, 1894). Archives italiennes de 
Biologic, 1894. T. XXI. 

Dogs from 2 to 4 months of age were prevented from sleeping 
and the physiological and anatomical effects of this treatment, re- 
corded. It appears that, for these animals at least, loss of sleep is 
much more detrimental than starvation. Dogs after starving more 
than twenty days and having lost more than 50 per cent, of their in- 
itial weight, may still recuperate under favorable conditions; but 
loss of sleep for four or five days is fatal. The temperature of the 
sleepless animal finally falls as much as 8 below the normal, the 
reflexes disappear, the red blood corpuscles first diminish in number, 
to undergo a final increase during the last two days, when the animal 
refuses food. 

Fatty degeneration of the tissues was the chief histological 
change noted at the post-mortem examination; the blood vessels 
often appeared compressed, were surrounded by leucocytes and 
there were capillary hemorrhages on the surface of the cerebral 
hemispheres, with more extensive ones along the optic pathway; 
while the spinal cord appeared abnormally dry and anaemic. 

When it is remembered that the central system withstands the 
effects of starvation in a most remarkable manner, maintaining 
almost its full weight up to the death of the animal, the great dis- 
turbance following a few days' loss of sleep is very impressive. 

Zur Kenntniss der Veranderungen des Riickenmarkes beim Menschen nach 
Extremitdtenamputationen. A. GRIGORIEW. Zeitschr. f. Heilk. 
1894. Bd. XV. 

The physiological conditions on which a mature nerve cell de- 
pends for its healthy maintenance are complicated. Most important 
are the supply of nutritive substance ; the regular alternation of ac- 



tivity with repose and anatomical completeness; but the essential 
feature in each one of these conditions is far from clear. 

G. has examined the spinal cord in the five cases of amputation, 
two at the upper arm, two at the thigh, one below the knee. The 
last lesion was but a year old when examined, and the cord showed 
no changes. In the other four cases there was an atrophy on the 
corresponding side of the cord, noticeable earliest in the dorsal roots 
and dorsal columns, later in the cells of the ventral horns. The 
degree of the atrophy increased with the age of the lesion and was 
accompanied by some degeneration. These results are mainly con- 
firmatory of previous observations. On attempting to analyze them 
it will be readily seen how complex they are. 

In these cases both the sensory and motor elements have lost 
portions of their neurons without an opportunity to regenerate them. 
The sensory elements have been deprived of the major number of 
stimuli coming to them under normal conditions, and have thus failed 
to send the usual impulses on to the cord. The motor elements 
have been crippled by the loss of their peripheral outgrowths and 
allowed to become torpid by disuse. There are, to be sure, other 
impulses coming to these cells, in addition to those arriving by their 
associated dorsal roots, and they must, for some time at least, retain 
the power to discharge along their efferent prolongations. To ex- 
plain this atrophy in the cord after amputation, it will therefore be 
necessary to learn what atrophic changes occur, when either root, a 
dorsal or ventral, alone is cut and for what period after operation 
the cell bodies continue to send out impulses. 

Note on the Degenerations following Double Transverse, Longitudinal, and 
Anterior Cornual Lesions of the Spinal Cord. ALBERT S. GRUN- 
BAUM. Journ. of Physiology, Vol. XVI. 

On isolating by double transverse section about three spinal seg- 
ments in the lower thoracic region of the cord of a monkey, it was 
found that there followed a very complete degeneration of the dorsal 
columns, and in the remaining columns a sharply defined peripheral 
band marking out the distribution of the long tracts at the circum- 
ference. The degeneration increased with time, being greater at 
the end of the six months than at the end of one. After this lesion 
the included anterior root fibres do not show degeneration, indicat- 
ing that they rise within the limits of the portion isolated, but when 
the ventral cornu of one side has been destroyed, some degenerated 
fibres are to be found in the opposite ventral root (observations on 
cats). A longitudinal mesal section of the cord was made (also on 


cats) with the result of an ascending degeneration just external to 
the dorsal roots, and another at the ventral border of the cerebeliar 
tract. This latter is explained as due to the section of fibres cross- 
ing in the anterior commissure, while the former is attributed to in- 
jury of the columns of Clarke. 

Report of the Versammlung deutscher Naturforscher und Aerzte in 
Wien vom 24-30 September, 1894; Section fur Psychiatric nnd 
Neurologie. Neurologisches Centralblatt, No. 20. 1894. 

From the reports of a number of papers of neurological interest, 
given at the Vienna meeting of the German Society of Naturalists 
and Physicians, the following abstracts are taken : 

Ueber die topographischen BezieJmngen zwischcn Retina, Optictis, und 
gekreutzen Tractus beim Kaninschen. A. PICK. 

From the destruction of limited areas in the retina, and the study 
of the subsequent degeneration, it appears that the affected fibres 
occupy in the cross section of the opticus or tractus a position cor- 
responding to that of the injury in the retina. No allusion is made 
to facts bearing on the bundle of uncrossed optic fibres, though there 
is reason to think that in the rabbit this is connected with the lateral 
portions of the retina. 

Die Sinnesorgane und die Ganglien bei Anencephalie und Amyelie. O. v. 

In a foetus of eight months in which the medullary tube was lack- 
ing, the author had previously shown the presence and moderate 
development of the sensory system. In this new case, also a foetus 
of eight months, anencephalic and amyelic, the nervous system con- 
sisted of the retina and of spinal and sympathetic ganglia, with the 
nerves arising from them. A portion of these nerves could be fol- 
lowed into the muscles. The spinal ganglia were not completely 
separated from one another, but the dorsal roots had been formed 
and, except in the cervical region, these roots ran cephalad. The 
nerve cells were complete; some of the fibres medullated, but 
in the so-called retina there were no nerve cells, neither were 
there any fibres in the optic stalk. The independent development 
of the sensory system, the sympathetic being associated with it, the 
distribution of sensory nerves to the muscles, and the normal devel- 
opment of the musculatur, are the striking features of this case. The 
last fact is very interesting, for in normal persons the severance of 
the ventral roots from the muscles leads to degenerative changes in 


the latter, and the fact that the muscles can develop without such a 
nerve supply is most remarkable. 

Ueber die feinere Anatomic und die physiologische Bcdeutung des sympa- 
thischen Nervensystem. v. KOLLIKER. 

The medullation of sympathetic fibres is very irregular, and they 
exhibit every combination which can occur. K. considers the func- 
tions of the sympathetic system partly independent an expression 
not explained and partly dependent on the central system. The cells 
he describes as mononeuric. Those cells with a spiral and straight 
fibre give origin only to the latter, while the former originates else- 
where and merely terminates on the body of the cell. In the mammals 
these sympathetic cells may be multipolar. In this latter case, the 
dendrons are pathways for afferent, and the neuron, for the efferent 

In this view the cells are mainly efferent or motor, while the 
afferent impulses, passing first to the medullary centres, are medi- 
ated by a few fibres from the dorsal spinal roots. It is not easy to 
see how independence can in any sense be granted to this system, 
unless the anatomical arrangements for both afferent and efferent 
impulses are present in it. It is suggestive to recall, moreover, that 
the most probable point of origin for the sympathetic cells is the 
same as that which gives rise to the cells of the spinal ganglia, 
which are the typical sensory elements. H. H. D. 



(/) Ueber die nach kurzdauernder Reizung des Sehorgans auftretenden 

Nachbilder. CARL HESS. Pfliiger's Archiv. XLIV, 190. 1891. 
(2) Ueber Nachbilder. SNELLEN. XXIII. Vers. ophth. Gesellsch. zu 

Heidelberg, 1893. 
(j) Primare, secunddre und tertidre Netzhautbilder nach momentanen 

Lichteindriicken. H. P. BOSCHA. Arch. f. Ophth. XL, (i), 22-42, 


(4) Studien uber Nachbilder. CARL HESS. Arch f. Ophth. XL, (2), 

2 59-279, 1894. 

(5) On the Recurrent Images following Visual Impressions. SHELFORD 
BIDWELL, Proc. Roy. Soc. LVI., June 7, 1894. 

Of these several papers on after-images, the last is the most im- 
portant. The experiments of Mr. Bidwell (like those of Hess in his 


second communication) concern the phenomena which arise when 
bright colorless or colored objects are made to move rather rapidly be- 
fore the eye in an otherwise dark room. Hess used small glow lamps 
of .5 cm diameter at a distance of about half a meter from the eye, 
covered with glass of different colors. Bidwell found colored glasses 
quite inadequate to his purpose, and hence made use of homogene- 
ous light, obtained by a high pressure oxyhydrogen light, a bisul- 
phide of carbon prism, a screen with a slit in it, and a mirror which 
rotated about a non-perpendicular axis and so caused the portions of 
the spectrum reflected from it to describe a circle upon a second 
screen. With various modifications of this apparatus he obtained a 
complicated series of sensations which will be best borne in mind if 
we reproduce his diagram : 









! ' " 



if"; _ 

\ i a 

X s 


C L 

I/ N 

R P 

Immediately upon the impact of the light there is experienced a 
sensation of luminosity, the intensity of which increases for about 
one-sixtieth of a second. Then follows suddenly a sensation of 
darkness, lasting also for about one-sixtieth of a second ; this is the 
now well-known Charpentier oscillation. Several slight waves fol- 
low this, and then there is a period of steady luminosity, which, 
however, is much less intense than the first instantaneous maximum. 
Upon shutting off the external light, a sensation of diminishing 
brightness continues fora brief interval, and is followed by a "sud- 
den and clearly-defined sensation of what may be called abnormal 
darkness darker than common darkness which lasts for about 
one-sixtieth of a second, " and is followed by another interval of 
ordinary darkness (N). Finally there occurs another transient im- 
pression of luminosity, generally violet-colored (R). This is the Re- 
current Image, which is the special subject of this paper. The re- 
current image is followed by what the author speaks of sometimes 
as a period of steady darkness " after which the uniformity of the 
darkness remains undisturbed " (p. 143) but at other times he re- 


fer& to it as a phosphorescent trail, the color of which cannot be 
determined, but which is with some observers "so intense that the 
recurrent image cannot be distinguished from it at all." This whole 
period (R and P) is what observers in general put under the head of 
the positive after-image; it has almost always been supposed to be 
continuous with the original sensation, and its color (which accord- 
ing to all observers is most persistently a reddish violet) is what 
Helmholtz describes as farbiges Abklingen des positiven Nachbildes, a 
term which will no longer be appropriate. The fact that the positive 
after-image is preceded by a negative phase (N) has recently been 
made plain by Hess (i), who points out that it has been wholly over- 
looked by Helmholtz, Aubert and Fick; it had, however, been dis- 
tinctly described by Purkinje, whose works are still a store-house 
of facts which await a sufficiently careful observer to be rediscov- 
ered. Bidwell, strangely enough, wrote in ignorance of this paper 
of Hess, and Hess was also unaware that the interval of darkness 
which interrupts the positive image had already been studied by 
Prof. C. A. Young and by Mr. A. S. Davis (Phil. Mag., Vols. 43 and 
44, 1872). The fact that when the after-image of the whole spec- 
trum is formed, its brightest part is not in the yellow but in the 
green (Hess and Bidwell) will doubtless be found to connect itself 
with the fact that the green is the brightest part of the spectrum 
when seen in a faint light. 

All recent work in vision shows that it becomes more and more 
necessary to distinguish between the specific sensation (color) and the 
absolute sensation (brightness) produced by objective light, and in 
particular the terms positive and negative as applied to after-images 
are very misleading unless farther particularized, for an image may 
be positive in one respect at the same time that it is negative in the 
other. It is, for instance, on account of this ambiguity, an almost 
hopeless task to endeavor to compare the phases of the after-image 
as described in the five papers whose titles are given above. In 
order to secure comprehension and at the same time to avoid the 
use of such complicated phrases as "an after-image which is com- 
plementary to the original one in color but of corresponding bright- 
ness," I would propose, in the absence of a less awkward terminol- 
ogy, the following; co-color, as an abbreviation for complementary 
color; self -color for a revival of the same color, and the same pre- 
fixes for the phases of brightness. Thus we should have: 
co-color -- co-brightness .... 

self-color ^1 -^-self-brightness. . . 


for the four possible descriptions of after-image, and for the above 
long phrase we should substitute the co-color self-brightness image. 

Boscha (3), following out the preliminary work of Snellen and in 
his laboratory, used an electric spark in a dark room to illuminate 
colored papers. His secondary stage is one of co-color and self- 
brightness, and it is followed, after a pause, by an image which is 
always of a peculiar reddish color difficult to define. He makes a 
number of criticisms upon the work of Hess in (i), which are shown 
in (4) to be based upon misconceptions. The dark interval preced- 
ing his secondary stage he seems to have quite overlooked. The 
conclusion of the whole matter is that there are numerous oscilla- 
tions in the chemical process which is set up in the retina by light, 
whose farther more detailed study may be expected, perhaps, to 
throw additional light upon rival theories. 


(1) Physiologische Analyse eines ungewohnlichen Falles partieller Farben- 
blindheit. II. M. v. VINTSCHGAU. Pfliiger's Archiv, LVII. 191- 

(2) Ueber einen Fall von Gelb-Blaublindheit. Ew. HERING. Pfl. Arch. 
LVII. 308-332. 

Prof. Langley has lately been so fortunate as to be able to per- 
fect his methods for the determination of the cold lines in the infra- 
red part of the spectrum to such an extent that work which it 
formerly took him a year to finish he can now do in a fraction of a 
day, and he has already laid down 2,000 lines with far greater 
accuracy than he could otherwise have obtained them with at the 
end of a hundred years. A somewhat similar change has been 
effected in our power to determine the exact nature of a given case 
of color blindness by Prof. Konig's latest form of the Helmholtz 
color-mixing apparatus, or spectro-photometer for colors (an im- 
provement even over the instrument exhibited at the Chicago Fair), 
when manipulated with all the precautions and the corrections which 
.are made use of in Konig's laboratory. If v. Vintschgau had been 
willing to make use of this method, he might have described his case 
of dichromasie not in one hundred and sixteen pages, but in three, 
one of which would have contained two diagrams, one giving the 
patient's brightness curve through the spectrum, and the other giv- 
ing the curves for his two color sensations, as deduced by the rela- 
tive amount of the two end-sensations necessary to match in tone 
and brightness all the intermediate parts of the spectrum. This 


simple information we seek in vain in v. Vintschgau's pages, but we 
have instead endless series of experiments with colored paper, glass, 
and wools, which all belong to a previous period of color-blindness 
investigation, and which simply repeat the result obtained by his- 
spectrophotometer, namely, that the patient lacks the sensations 
blue and yellow, as in a typical case of blue-blindness, and that he 
has a slightly diminished sensibility for the colors that remain to 
him, for the short-wave end of the spectrum rather more than for 
the long-wave end. This is hardly enough to make the case ' un- 
usual,' and Hering refers to it simply as a case ; the adjective in 
v. Vintschgau's title is, in fact, simply a survival from his first com- 
munication, when he had convinced himself, also by an immense 
number of experiments, that his patient could see yellow, which 
would indeed have been an anomaly. This mistake he was led into 
by paying attention to the names which his patient used for his sen- 
sations. How wholly unjustifiable this is was pointed out by Dr. 
William Pole, himself partially color-blind, in an article of most re- 
markable logical acumen, in which the writer wholly anticipated the 
facts in regard to color-blindness which have only with the last few 
years gained acceptance (Trans. Roy. Soc., 1858). The violet end of 
the spectrum gives this individual no color-sensation when looked at 
directly (2), but it has been possible to prove indirectly, and in three 
different ways, that he has here a sensation of red ; (a) a little of 
this light when added to a red which is too faint to be distinguished 
causes a plain sensation of red; (b) it forms a colorless mixture with 
green, and (c) it gives a distinct green as a contrast-color. This 
fact that a color too faint to be perceived may yet cause its proper 
contrast effect to be very distinct is already known, and is beauti- 
fully exhibited in the experiments with a projection lantern of Rol- 
let (Pfl. Arch. XL. 25, 1892,) the most brilliant yet made in the 
subject of contrast. 

The necessity of paying no attention to what the patient says 
that he sees, but only to his color equations, is now pretty well 
recognized, and Hering himself (but not v. Vintschgau, p. 205) dis- 
tinctly insists upon it. Nevertheless, in calling the two color-sensa- 
tions of the person here investigated red and green, Hering (and v. 
Vintschgau as well) overlooks this precaution, and at the same time 
assumes the correctness of his own theory, which the case is sup- 
posed to support. All that we know is that this patient has some 
distinguishable color-sensation along the spectrum as far as A 596, 
and again another sensation from A. 574 to A 481. If Hering 1 s theory 
is correct, this latter sensation is green; upon the Helmholtz theory, as 


held by its present defenders (and upon any three-color theory), it 
is blue-green; the whole bearing of the case upon existing theories 
depends upon whether this color (the complement to the fundamen- 
tal red of both theories) is properly named green or blue-green; in 
other words, it has no bearing at all upon them. Konig has very 
recently had several most interesting cases of monocular blue-blind- 
ness circumscribed within a small area surrounding the fovea, in 
which the sensation given by the cold end of the spectrum can be 
readily compared with normal sensations, and is found to be blue- 
green. This fact is still, of course, not decisive between theories, 
for what Hering means by green is a color which is pronounced to 
be blue-green by the ordinary consciousness, and this in spite of the 
fact that it is precisely for the satisfaction of the ordinary conscious- 
ness as regards color-sensation that Hering's theory has been devised. 



Contributions to the Physiological Psychology of the Sense of Taste. FRIED- 
RICH KIESOW. Abstract of papers in Philosophische Studien, Bd. 
X, Heft 3, pp. 329 ff ; Heft 4, pp. 523 ff. 

The electric, metallic and alkaline tastes being reserved for 
special investigations, the present work treats only of those sensa- 
tions recognised as special qualities, viz., sweet, sour, salt and bit- 
ter. The taste-substances used were: chlornatr., muriatic acid, 
sacch. alb., sacch., quin. sulph., and quin. pur. In all cases 
in which chemical combination of the substances was to be strictly 
avoided quin. sulph. and not quin. pur. was used. The greatest pos- 
sible chemical purity was sought for these substances, which were 
dissolved in distilled water. The application was made partly by 
means of dropping-glass tubes on which a scale graduated by 
j^j- cm. was engraved, partly by means of soft pointed hair brushes. 
All disturbing accompanying sensations, not excepting that of tem- 
perature, were excluded. The simplest way to accomplish the last 
was to raise the fluids to be applied to the temperature of the mouth, 
viz. 37 C. Between the separate experiments the mouth was rinsed 
out with pure water of the same temperature, 37 C. After having 
trained the subjects, I first examined the cavity of the mouth, with 
a view to determining what parts were receptive of sensations of 
taste. These experiments were performed both on children and on 
adults. Taking into consideration what former investigators have 
found out the total results of this chapter will be given. 


1. Besides the whole surface of the tongue together with its base 
and the under surface of its tip the hard and soft palate, without 
doubt the arcus glosso-palatinus, the tonsils, the uvula, the isthmus 
fancium, the inside of the epiglottis and the mucous membrane of 
the cheeks participate in the sensation of taste. 

2. All these parts are sensitive in childhood; in adults the mucous 
membrane of the cheeks, the middle of the tongue and, with a few 
exceptions, the hard palate lose their sensitiveness. In some cases 
the under surface of the tip of the tongue on both sides of the frenu- 
lum remains receptive also in adults. 

3. The presence of disturbance is accounted for, sometimes by 
an affection of the cavity of the tympanum, sometimes by individual 

It must be remarked that the perceptive faculty of the inner 
epiglottis was established by Michelson and Langendorff, 1 that of 
the mucous membrane of the cheeks in childhood by Urbantschitsch. * 
Concerning the retrogression of certain taste surfaces in adults I 
must refer the reader to my longer article in which an explanation 
according to the theory of development is offered and literary refer- 
ences given. 

In a further investigation I tested the sensitiveness of the differ- 
ent perceptive parts of the cavity of the mouth, by taking as 
measure the absolute given for the different qualities of taste, ob- 
taining in this way the following general results: 

i. Sensitiveness varies for the different qualities on the different 
parts of the tongue. Sweet is tasted best on the tip of the tongue, 
sour on the edge, and bitter at the base, acid equally on the tip and 
edges, but less at the base. 

2. With regard to the values found in an isolated case for the 
other taste-surfaces, the sensitiveness for sweet and bitter appears in 
the following order: Soft palate, arcus glosso-palatin., uvula, under- 
surface of the tip; for sour, arcus glosso-palat., palat. molle, uvula, 
under-surface of the tip; for salt, palatum molle, under-surface of 
the tip, arcus glosso-pal., uvula. The values are in part considerably 
below those noted under i. Only on the soft palate does salt reach 
the normal given. 

3. A single investigation showed that in childhood all parts, ex- 
cepting the tip and edges of the tongue, possessed nearly the same 

1 Centralblatt f ttr Physiol. 1892. P. 204. 

2 Urbantschitsch, Beobochtungen iiber Anomalien des Geschmacks, etc., in Forge 
von Erkrankungen der Taukcnhdhlc. 1876. I desire to draw special attention to this 
interesting work. 


sensitiveness with regard to sweet. The tip and edges were more 

4. The explanation of the normal condition, as of individual dif- 
ferences is without doubt to be found in the law of adaptation, except- 
ing those cases in which pathological causes, obstructions, etc., 

Further, attention was directed to the qualitative conditions of the 
sensations of taste. These experiments were only made on adults. 
First, I was enabled to prove that all four above-named qualities 
are true sensations of taste, also that the sensations of sour and salt 
must not be excluded from the sphere of taste on account of the 
accompanying tactile sensations. On the contrary, my investiga- 
tions led to the conclusion that all our perceptions of taste are ac- 
companied by tactile sensations, although in different degrees. 
Sweet is accompanied on and near the limen by a sensation of 
smoothness, at higher intensity by that of slipperiness, at very great 
intensity by that of scratching and biting. The liminal values of 
bitter are accompanied by a distinct sensation of greasiness. Even 
the application of distilled water produced with some of my subjects 
a distinct perception of taste. Two of them tasted water on the tip 
of the tongue as sweet, on the edges as sour and sourish, at the 
base bitter. Others tasted it as bitter in the whole cavity of the 
mouth, others only bitter at the base and tasteless on the other 
parts of the tongue. The bitter sensation produced by distilled 
water accompanied the single sensation called forth by taste sub- 
stances often for a time above the limen, so that in this way two 
sensations arose which I have designated as double-sensations. 
Even a mechanical stimulus of the base of the tongue with a glass- 
rod produced with me and with many of my subjects a sensation 
distinctly bitter. 

Great influence in the region of taste must be ascribed to asso- 
ciation and the effects of contrast. The conditions of contrast I 
investigated with special care; the total results of which maybe 
given concisely as follows: 

1. Contrasting stimuli must be recognized in the sense of taste. 

2. Salt contrasts with sweet, salt with sour, sweet with sour. 

3. Salt and sweet, and salt and sour contrast both on simultane- 
ous stimulation of corresponding parts of the tongue and on succes- 
sive stimulation of the same taste-surface. The contrasts of sweet 
and sour could only be observed in the latter case. 

4. Bitter forms an exception, but yet perhaps gives rise to con- 
trasts restricted to individuals. THE AUTHOR. 




Psychologic des grands calculateurs et joueurs d' tehees. A. BINET. Paris, 

Hachette. 1894. Pp. VIII, 364. 
Travaux du Laboratoire de psychologic physiologique de hautes-ttudes a la 

Sorbonne. BEAUNIS, BINET and others. Anne"e, 1892; pp. 100; 

annee, 1893; pp. 58. Paris, Alcan. 1893-4. 

Travaux du Laboratoire de psychologic physiologique pendant I'anne'e 1892 
1893. A. BINET and others. Rev. Philos. XXXVII, 111-119,. 
222-240 and 344-3S 2 . 1894, 

The first two numbers of M. Beaunis' Annual, (Travaux du 
Laboratoire,} indicate the main lines of research that have been fol- 
lowed thus far in the new psychological laboratory at Paris, of which 
M. Binet is the leading spirit. Several of the studies appear also, as 
preliminary reports, in the pages of the Revue Philosophique. The 
investigations can be grouped for the most part under two general 
heads, audition colorte and memory; the latter are incorporated in M. 
Binet' s work on Great Calculators and Chess Players, 

M. Binet was able to secure two noted calculators and test their 
powers and methods at some length. One of them, M. Inaudi, was 
distinctly of the auditory type, preferring to receive his data orally; 
when required to start with written numbers, he always repeated 
them to himself, before proceeding with the problem. The other,. 
M. Diamandi, a Greek, was quite as markedly of the visual type. 
M. Binet devotes a chapter of his work to some tests made on 
these two, together with a distinguished prestidigitator, M. Ar- 
nould, to determine their comparative facility in memorizing and 
repeating numbers. M. Arnould's method is to associate each 
numeral with a certain consonant; by adding vowels at will, he 
transforms any given number into some word or phrase, which he 
readily memorizes; when called on he simply translates this back 
into the number. M. Inaudi could memorize the most rapidly of the 
three up to a hundred figures, (36 in im 30", 75 in 5m 30", 100 in 
i2m.), which was as far as he was tested. As between MM. Dia- 
mandi and Arnould, the former learned the first few figures some- 
what more quickly, but from 25 places on the latter had a decided 
advantage; (D: 10 in 17", 25 in 3m, 50 in 7m, 100 in 25m; A: 10 
in 20", 25 in 2m 30", 50 in 2m. 45", 100 in i5m). The two 'direct' 
memorizers nere compensated, however, by being able to repeat what 
they had learned much more rapidly than M. Arnould. The investi- 
gation is particularly interesting in view of the dispute as to the 


value of mnemonics. It would be interesting to test also the com- 
parative durability of the several kinds of memory by experiments 
similar to those of Ebbinghaus. M. Inaudi was able to repeat 230 
numerals that he had learned on the preceding day, but the experi- 
ment was not followed out; it seems probable that M. Arnould would 
have been able to retain many times that number. (Mnemonic 
memorizing, which relies on mediating associations, might be called 
the associative type, to distinguish it from the auditive and visual, 
where the correlation is immediate.) M. Binet endeavors to account 
for the rapidity with which MM. Inaudi and Diamandi perform com- 
plicated mathematical operations, in a number of ways, (i) By the 
use of various devices which simplify the problem. (2) By an ex- 
tension of the multiplication table to products of two place numbers. 
(3) By the aid of unconscious mental processes: just as we uncon- 
sciously adopt results in multiplication, from the memorized table, 
so one accustomed to calculating might come upon results intuitively, 
which he would require a long and tedious operation to reach, if 
every step had to be formulated. Proceeding mechanically or half- 
consciously, he would not need to use words or symbols to indicate 
the operations; this abbreviation would in itself shorten the time con- 
siderably, and M. Binet agrees with Scripture in emphasizing its 
importance in the 'shorthand' of calculation, even if the process be 
wholly conscious and voluntary. 

The second part of M. Binet's work treats of blind-fold chess- 
playing. By means of a questionnaire and personal letters, he obtained 
from a large number of players more or less complete analyses of 
their methods of procedure. According to this testimony, there 
are three principal requisites for success: (i) Familiarity with the 
game, through practice and study; especially a knowledge of the best 
line of play for various positions, in order to save time and thought. 
This is far more essential here than in play over the board. (2) 
Memory, in order to retain the moves already played or the position 
of the pieces at a given time. (3) Power of visualization. This last 
is the distinguishing feature of blind-fold playing. In some players 
it takes a very concrete form : they seem to see the squares, dark and 
light alternately, and the pieces upon them more or less distinctly. 
In other cases it is rather more symbolic abstract, as M. Binet terms 
it; the player sees only part of the board at a time, and represents 
in a vague way the pieces and their positions; but he works by means 
of the potency of the pieces, an idea, rational rather than visual, of 
what each one can do from its given position. In addition to this 
there is in some cases a verbal memory; /. e., an auditory memory of 


the names of the squares and moves; a great many players repeat 
the moves in a low tone of voice, to re-enforce the visual memory- 

A different phase of memory from those treated in this book, is 
taken up in a study of the visual memory of children; 225 school- 
children, from 9 to 13 years of age, being examined in groups of 
four. They were shown a line, and afterwards asked to reproduce it, 
or pick out one of similar length from a set. Three standard lengths, 
16, 40, and 68 mm., were used. M. Binet does not mention the lapse 
of time between the original presentation and the choice or attempted 
reproduction (10 to 15 min. ?), nor the differences in length of the 
lines given to choose from in the second place. The absence of 
these data prevents us from comparing his results with those of a 
somewhat similar investigation recently conducted at Princeton, 
(using squares, however, instead of lines), which will be reported in 
a succeeding number of this REVIEW. 

Among the laboratory studies are several on audition colore'e. M. 
Binet and his colleagues examined a number of persons subject to 
this phenomenon, in order to determine the rapidity with which they 
associate the color with the word or vowel. So far as they go, the 
figures seem to show that this peculiar color association is not more 
rapid than other kinds of association; M. Binet shows by experiments 
on himself, that one who has not colored audition may learn a set of 
associations between vowels and colors so thoroughly, as to be able 
to call up the proper one in each case, and may do so even more 
rapidly than those who make the association naturally. 


Assimilation and Association. (I and II). JAMES WARD. Mind, N. 
S., II, p. 347, July, 1893, and III, p. 509, October, 1894. 

By assimilation, Dr. Ward means the recognition, or as he pre- 
fers to say, the cognition, involved in perception, that is, what 
Hoffding names unmittelbares Wiedererkennen. His central position is 
the assertion that assimilation, in this sense, so far from being iden- 
tical with association or explained by it, is really the necessary pre- 
supposition of association, which is obviously between recognized 
objects of consciousness. The most important part of the discussion 
is the vigorous criticism of the view that assimilation is really a case 
of 'association by contiguity ' and that, accordingly, an object seems 
familiar through the presence of faint representations, Nebenvorstel- 


lungen of events or objects, formerly connected with the familiar one. 
Dr. Ward's objections to this theory are based largely on physi- 
ological considerations. From Miiller, Siemerling and others, he 
quotes cases of cerebral disturbance, in which " visual memory 
images are for the most part retained, so that old scenes can be 
recalled and familiar objects or persons accurately described, and 
yet the recognition of them is no longer possible, when such persons 
or objects are actually present." Dr. Ward insists, perhaps without 
sufficiently considering the possibility that apparent concrete visual 
memory-images may really be verbal images, that such cases would 
be impossible if sense-percept and sense-image were exactly the 
same. Hence he denies that "the seat of the ideas is the same as 
the seat of the sensations," though "of course," he adds; "it is not 
likely that there will be any wide separation .... both might even 
belong to the same convolution, though possibly to different layers 
of its cortex." Facts of brain change, especially the "evidence of 
the gradual maturing of the cerebral projection-system and of its 
priority to the association-tracts " are adduced to prove the physio- 
logical possibility of assimilation, when association is impossible. In 
his positive treatment of assimilation, Dr. Ward gives, as he says, 
'no precise answer to the question,' but this is natural, for his ten- 
dency is to regard assimilation as an ultimate, and therefore unan- 
alyzable, aspect of conscious activity. Assimilation is consciousness 
of familiarity, and the interesting parallel between cognitive famili- 
arity and motor facility, or habit, suggests, at the outset, that the 
nature of familiarity "is to be formed rather in the subjective than 
in the objective constituents of consciousness." Quite in conson- 
ance with this premonitory remark, assimilation is, in the end, allied 
with attention of a 'spontaneous, selective and concentrated form,' 
and described as a form 'of subject activity and interest.' 

The most curious feature of the essay, is Dr. Ward's persuasion 
that his theory is 'in the main' in agreement with Hoffding's. In 
contending that such immediate recognition does exist, without 
necessarily involving contiguous association, both authors of course 
agree. But Hoffding expressly makes the identification, justly repu- 
diated by Ward, of assimilation with 'association by similarity; ' and 
in the details of his theory, even in the later, modified form of it, he 
either, as Ward admits, "lays dangerous stress on the physiological 
effects of mere repetition," or offers a psycho-mechanical explana- 
tion differing inherently from Ward's emphatic insistence upon the 
preeminently subjective nature of assimilation. 




History and Natural Science. W. WINDELBAND. Inaugural Address 
as Rector. Strassburg, May, 1894. 

The current division of the experiential sciences into natural 
sciences and sciences of mind is unfortunate. Psychology does not 
fall exclusively in either class. For while as regards its object of 
study it is a 'science of mind,' its method is that of the natural 
sciences, viz., that of seeking laws of processes, whereas most of the 
' Geisteswissenschaften ' seek to set forth some single event or pro- 
cess in its historic relations. A better division from a purely metho- 
dological point of view would be into natural and historical sciences. 
The former seek universal laws, the latter seek particular historical 
facts. The goal of the former is the general apodictic judgment, of 
the latter the singular assertory proposition. The former may be 
called nomothetic, the latter idiographic^ bearing in mind that the same 
material may often be considered from either point of view. Logic 
has always been under the influence of the nomothetic thought forms. 
It has centered its investigation about the universal judgment, and 
as regards the actual procedure of science to-day we have devoted 
far more attention to the theory of experimentation than to the 
parallel problems of historical methodology. 

The results of these diverse methods are widely differing struc- 
tures. History presents a world of living, concrete individuals; 
science leaves out all that is individual and constructs her mathe- 
matical formulations of the laws of motion, her world of atoms 
colorless and soundless. This at once suggests the question as to 
the respective values of the two results, especially as regards their 
influence on our views of the world and of life. Every object or fact 
has value in proportion as it contributes to a universal. The par- 
ticular may fulfil this function, however, not only by being subsumed 
under a general concept but also by forming a significant constituent 
of a concrete whole. Man is preeminently interested in the indi- 
vidual and unique, especially in the sphere of personality. But on 
the other hand the idiographic sciences which portray this must 
employ general principles furnished by the nomothetic. 

These two moments of human thought cannot be reduced to one. 
Causal explanation of historical events might seem to indicate a pos- 
sibility of completely explaining the particular from universal laws, 
and so Leibnitz thought that ultimately all ve'rite's de fait had their 
grounds in the ve'rite's dternelles. But he could only postulate this for 
the divine thought, not carry it out for human intelligence. This 


' irreducibility ' may be illustrated by the fact that every event may 
be regarded as the conclusion of a syllogism requiring two premises, 
one, the major, a natural law, the other the minor, an actual ante- 
cedent in time. Hence the individual can never be completely ex- 
plained, /. e., reduced to general laws. This is illustrated by the 
impossibility of a complete analysis of personality by general cate- 
gories, where the irreducible element appears to us as the feeling of 
the causelessness of our own nature, *. e., individual freedom. 


The Conception of Infinity. SHADWORTH H. HODGSON. Proceedings 
of the Aristotelian Society, Vol. II., No. 3, Part i. 

It is impossible to analyze and criticise satisfactorily in so brief a 
space as is contained in the limits of this review, Mr. Hodgson's 
interesting and closely reasoned paper on infinity. I can only give 
the outline of his argument and indicate what seem to me its strong 
and its weak points. 

The term infinity, Mr. Hodgson maintains, signifies an attribute 
and not a substance. Since all attributes qualify the substance to 
which they belong, infinity must be a quality of the thing to which 
it belongs. But though infinity is thus a quality, it is, so to speak, 
a quantitative quality. In the wider sense of the word it is a quality but 
not in the narrower. All quantitative determinations of things are 
qualitative, in the broader sense of the term. There must, then, 
be something an essential quality of which is quantitative, making it 
capable of quantification. 

The two senses in which the word quality may be used may be 
brought out in an illustration : we may distinguish in the experience 
we call a rose : (i) Certain specific feelings such as color, odor, 
etc. (2) Certain properties which are its quantitative elements, 
and (3) The fact that certain constituents of these two classes are 
combined in a particular way at a particular time the ' existential ' 

The second class, or the quantitative constituents of the exper- 
ience, are the source of our having the perception or the idea of 
quantity at all. There are two constituents of this class, time-dura- 
tion and space-extension. Every content of consciousness must 
contain a constituent of class (i) and of class (2). The constituents 
of class (2) may be called the formal element of consciousness. 
This formal element alone is immediately and essentially capable of 
quantification, and is the source of all our knowledge of quantity. 


Feeling is only quantifiable indirectly, in virtue of its occupying 
time, or both space and time. 

Since, therefore, infinity is a quantitative quality, it is to time 
and space alone that it must in the last resort attach, if it exists at 
all ; and time and space are those entities or substances or things 
whose essential quality is to be quantifiable. 

But looking at the panorama of our experience where we will, we 
find that divisions between feelings, or between feeling and absence 
of feeling, are always divisions which fall within time or space, never 
beyond them, i. e., they are limits beyond which there are space and 
time again, whether this space or time beyond the limit is or is not 
occupied by a specific feeling or content. In other words space and 
time in their entirety are wholly limitless and inexhaustible. 

Infinity is a fact of perception, observed alike in the minima and 
in the maxima of perception. Our perception of infinity must be 
carefully distinguished from our conception of infinity, the latter 
being a single finite item in a whole hierarchy of similar concep- 
tions. Our perception of the infinity of space and time is a fact of 

If what precedes be true, then we cannot but conceive the uni- 
verse as infinitely extended. We perceive time and space to be 
infinite, and as the formal element of consciousness is inseparable 
from its material co-element ('quality' in the narrower sense), we 
must conceive existence as extending commensurably with time and 
space, beyond the boundaries of existence as positively known by 
us. Time and space, beyond the bounds of any content positively 
known to us, must be combined with some co-element or other, for 
it is only as a co-element that we know them. 

The universe as positively known or knowable is a world of mat- 
ter. The unseen world may be immaterial, and faith lays hold 
upon it, thus satisfying the demands of the moral nature, which 
positive knowledge leaves unsatisfied. This is the triumph of the 
Practical Reason, on the field upon which the Speculative has met 
with defeat. 

Such is Mr. Hodgson's argument. I have given it only in 
abstract and I have eliminated certain portions, but I have not 
broken the chain of his reasonings. His analysis of consciousness 
into its formal and material elements is, I think, clear and masterly. 
His style is simple and without ornament, -a great virtue in a 
philosophical writer. His conclusion does not. appear to me to be 


I shall not enter into a general discussion of the infinity and in- 
finite divisibility of space and time, though I think his arguments 
to prove these are not above reproach, but I shall confine myself to 
pointing out that consistency would rob him of his world of faith, 
and shut him up to the world of matter, or such part of it as comes 
within experience. 

He has said that the infinity of time and space are given in ex- 
perience. Time and space, however, are, as he has also maintained, 
given in experience only as co-elements, they are inseparable from 
the material elements of experience. It would surely seem to follow 
that if the infinity of time and space are perceptual facts, the infinity 
of the world in time and space must be a perceptual fact too. Can 
we have an experience consisting of a certain limited quantity of 
'form* and 'matter' combined, and, extending infinitely beyond 
that, an experience which consists of but the one element, the 
formal ? Are pure space and pure time without any material filling 
given in perception ? If they can be, a world beyond the limits of 
the known world, a world of faith, cannot be assumed to fill the 
void, for the void can be conceived as unfilled, no co-element is 
necessary. If, on the other hand, a co-element be really necessary, 
we cannot perceive time and space to be infinite, without at the 
same time perceiving that which fills them to be infinite, for they 
cannot be experienced alone. 

Now Mr. Hodgson holds that the universe is not positively 
known to us as infinite. Its infinity is not a perceptual fact. Must 
we not thence conclude that the infinity of time and space, the 
formal element in experience, is also not positively known to us ? 
Co-elements must be co-extensive, if they are really inseparable. 

Mr. Hodgson must either hold that the formal element may be 
divorced from the material, in which case he cannot assume the 
existence of an unknown world to fill void time and space ; or that 
it can not, in which case he must admit that, if we positively know 
time and space to be infinite, we also positively know the existent 
world to be infinite. This makes an argument for its existence un- 
necessary, and rubs out the line between the worlds of knowledge 
and of faith. 

I do not believe Mr. Hodgson can get his conclusion without 
blowing both hot and cold in his premises. He has certainly done 
so in this argument. 



r Abstraction et son role dons V education intellectuelle. QUEYRAT. Paris, 
Alcan, 1894. Pp. 144. 

This is a popular statement of classical ideas on abstraction, 
ideas to which the author has added, in order to rejuvenate them, 
many quotations borrowed from contemporary psychologists. The 
book merits neither praise nor blame ; it may be useful to persons 
entirely unacquainted with psychology. It should serve to confirm 
others in the idea that those who make science are the ones who 
should take the trouble to popularize it. A. B. 



Memoirs of the International Congress of Anthropology. Edited by C. 
STANILAND WAKE. Chicago, 1894. Pp. 375. 

The prompt appearance of this volume (it was issued last spring) 
and the handsome style of its manufacture secure for it the first 
words of commendation, and they will certainly not be the last. 

At the International Congress, of which it is the record, anthro- 
pology was interpreted in its widest sense as the science of man, in 
all directions of his development, physical and psychical. An effort 
was made to consider the history of the species as an aggregate, 
and to lay down the principles for its scientific analysis. The sepa- 
rate branches considered were physical anthropology, archaeology, 
ethnology, folk-lore, religions and linguistics, and in the published 
volume two or more papers are given on each of these divisions. 

While all of them are meritorious, a few deserve special mention 
on account of the extent of new observations, the results of which 
they present. In Dr. Franz Boas' article 'The Anthropology of 
the North American Indian,' and in that of Dr. Gerald M. West on 
'The Anthropometry of American School Children,' we have con- 
densed statements of the many thousand measurements undertaken 
by the Department of Ethnology of the Columbian Exposition. For 
the first time positive data of wide provenance are supplied in the 
two branches named. 

Another paper replete with new facts is that on 'Primitive 
Scales and Rhythms,' by Prof. John C. Fillmore. It is a study of 
the musical powers of the American Indian by one deeply versed in 
the theory of the art. 

Mr. Mercer gives an account of the discovery by himself of a 
flaked flint in ancient quaternary gravels in Spain; and Prof. O. T. 
Mason contributes an interesting study on aboriginal American 


mechanics. Mrs. S. W. Stevenson illustrates a phase of primitive 
thought by tracing an ancient Egyptian rite; and Miss Alice C. 
Fletcher presents some Omaha love songs, showing that this senti- 
ment is also one of those which are primitive. Two of the articles 
are in German, which is quite appropriate in an 'international' 

It is to be regetted that psychology proper did not find a place 
among the subjects discussed, or at least not among the papers 
printed. The science of anthropology is not a science when psy- 
chology is omitted, and the sooner its commanding position in the 
study of man is recognized the more rapid will be the progress of a 
sound knowledge of the species. D. G. BRINTON. 



The Proceedings of the International Congress of Education of the 
World's Columbian Exhibition. Held in Chicago, July 25-28, 
1893. New York, National Educational Association, 1894. 
Pp. XVIII. + 1005. 

The extended series of volumes representing the proceedings of 
the National Educational Association since its formation, in 1857, is 
certainly one of the dreariest collections of pedagogical words and 
phrases to be found in our language. The volumes will in no way 
stand comparison with the proceedings of the American Institute 
of Instruction. The present thick volume of more than a thousand 
pages goes far, however, toward redeeming the whole series. It 
gives an encyclopedic view of the educational theories of to-day as 
presented by some thousands of representative men and women from 
all over the world in a three days' educational congress. It is not 
generally understood that there were in Chicago during the summer 
of 1893 two educational congresses meeting in the same rooms on 
successive weeks, and each divided into a score of sections covering 
essentially the same ground. The first congress, July lyth to 25th, 
was under the direction of the Woman's Branch of the World's 
Congress Auxiliary, and its proceedings have never been published. 
The second congress was under the direction of the National Edu- 
cational Association, July 25th to 28th, and the present volume gives 
most of the papers presented, with brief notes on the discussions. 

One is struck in reading this volume, as in reading all the teach- 
ers' literature of the day, with the fact that hardly any of the papers 
deal with what has been, or with what is ; they all struggle with the 


question : What ought to be? The exceptions are to be found in the 
papers of some of the foreign delegates who describe work actually 
being done in their own countries, and in the work of the psychologi- 
cal sections. It would seem that on a great historical occasion like 
that which drew the congresses together it might have been expected 
that some effort would be made to gather up the results of our past 
pedagogic experience, and then from the historical point of view 
forecast the probable future. There are very few papers written 
from this point of view, but most of the discussions are purely theo- 

The work of the section in Rational Psychology fills some thirty 
pages, and includes studies by such representative men as Dr. Mc- 
Cosh, Prof. Royce and President Schurman. Cynics who charge us 
pedagogues with being men of narrow intellectual interests will find 
sufficient breadth of view in this section to reverse the charge. 

Of most interest to readers of this review will be the seventy 
pages devoted to the work of the Congress of Experimental Psy- 
chology in Education. Two years before, at its meeting in Toronto, 
in 1891, the N. E. A. had given some attention to this line of study 
through two round-table conferences, presided over by G. Stanley 
Hall, though they were not recognized as a part of the regular associa- 
tion work. Again, in 1892, at Saratoga, two round-table meetings 
dealt with experimental psychology, but the meeting in Chicago was 
really the first great educational meeting in America where any con- 
siderable time was set aside for the direct study of the original stuff 
with which all educational theory deals. The papers at Chicago 
present special studies on physical development, stuttering, imagina- 
tion in childhood, children's language, children's theology, eye and 
ear-mindedness, the psychology of reading and spelling, reports on 
work being done in different parts of the world, with several more 
general studies showing the relation of this sort of work to educa- 
tional theory and practice. Such well-known men are represented 
as G. Stanley Hall, Wm. Burnham, James Sully, E. M. Hartwell, 
Francis Warner, and Wm. Bryan. There is no other single place 
where so much material has been brought together bearing on the 
study of children as in this volume, with the exception of the files of 
the Pedagogical Seminary. 

The volume must prove to be a valuable and permanent reference 
book for students interested in educational theory and the beginnings 
of educational psychology. EARL BARNES. 




Lehrbuch der Psychologic. W. VOLKMANN. Vierte Auf., Bd. I. 

Cothen, Schulze, 1894. Pp. vii -f 511. 
Peregrinazioni psicologiche. TR. VIGNOLI. Milan, Hoepli, 1895. 

Pp. 404- 

Filosofia morale. L. FRISO. Milan, Hoepli, 1893. Pp. xii -f 33 5 
From the Greeks to Darwin. H. F. OSBORN. New York, Macmillan 

& Co., and London, 1894. Pp. x -f 2 59- 
Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology. W. WUNDT. Translated 

from the second German edition by E. Creighton and E. B. 

Titchener. London, Swan, Sonnenschein & Co. ; New York, 

Macmillan & Co., 1894. Pp. x -f- 454. 
Saggio di una scala normale del pensiero astratto. S. DE CRESCENTO. 

Naples, d'Auria, 1893. Pp. 27. 
Principii di logica reale. N. R. D' ALFONSO. Rome, Paravia, 1894. 

Pp. 7i. 
Genie und Entartung : eine psychologische Studie. W. HIRSCH. Berlin u. 

Leipzig, Coblenz, 1894. 
Zur Analyse des Apperceptionsbegriffs. J. KODIS. Berlin, Calvary, 

1893. Pp. 202. 

Introduction to Comparative Psychology. C. LLOYD MORGAN. Con- 
temporary Science Series. London, Walter Scott ; New York, 
imported by Charles Scribner's Sons, 1894. Pp. xiv, 382. 

Enhvurf zu einer physiologischen Erklarung der psychischen Erscheinungen. 
I. Thl. SIGM. EXNER. Vienna, Deuticke, 1894. Pp. viii -f 

Studies from the Yale Psychological Laboratory. II. Edited by ED- 
WARD W. SCRIPTURE. New Haven, Conn., Yale University, 

1894. Pp. 124. $i. 

La logique sociale. G. TARDE. Paris, Alcan, 1894. 7 fr. 50. 
Me'moire et imagination. LUCIEN ARRE"AT. Paris, Alcan, 1894. 

2 fr. 50. 
Les e'tats intellectuels dans la me'lancolie. G. DUMAS. Paris, Alcan, 

1895. Pp. 144. 2 fr. 50. 

Les lots psychologiques de Involution des peuples. G. LE BON. Paris, 
Alcan, 1894. 2 fr. 50. 

104 NOTES. 


Ex-President James McCosh of Princeton College died in Prince- 
ton on Nov. 1 6. 

Professor O. Kiilpe has been called from Leipzig to the Univer- 
sity of Wurzburg. 

Professor Sorley has been called to the University of Aberdeen. 

The publication is announced of Prof. Ribot's lectures at the 
College de France. The volumes, of which there will probably be 
three, are now in press for early issue. 

Mr. A. H. Lloyd has been made Acting Assistant Professor of 
Philosophy, and given charge of the department for the year, in the 
University of Michigan. Mr. J. Bigham, Ph.D. (Harvard), and 
Mr. Geo. Rebec, Ph.B. (Michigan), have been appointed instructors 
in the same institution, the former to direct the work of the psycholo- 
gical laboratory. 

Dr. W. R. Newbold has been appointed Assistant Professor of 
Philosophy in the University of Pennsylvania. 

Dr. S. Mezes has been appointed Professor of Philosophy in the 
University of Texas. 

Dr. Margaret Washburn has been appointed Professor of Philoso- 
phy and Psychology in Wells College. 

Dr. W. B. Elkin has been appointed Professor of Philosophy in 
Colgate University. 

VOL. II. No. 2. MARCH, 1895. 




Harvard University* 


The nature of the synthetic unity of consciousness is one 
of those great underlying problems that divide the psycholo- 
gical schools. We know, say, a dozen things singly through 
a dozen different mental states. But on another occasion 
we may know the same dozen things together through a 
single mental state. The problem is as to the relation of 
the previous many states to the later one state. In physical 
nature, it is universally agreed, a multitude of facts always 
remain the multitude they were and appear as one fact only 
when a mind comes upon the scene and so views them, as 
when H-O-H appear as water ' to a human spectator. 
But when, instead of extramental 'things,' the mind com- 
bines its own contents ' into a unity, what happens is much 
less plain. 

The matters of fact that give the trouble are among our 
most familiar experiences. We know a lot of friends and 
can think of each one singly. But we can also think of 
them together, as composing a ' party ' at our house. We 
can see single stars appearing in succession between the 
clouds on a stormy night, but we can also see whole con- 
stellations of those stars at once when the wind has blown 
the clouds away. In a glass of lemonade we can taste both 

1 Read as the President's Address before the American Psychological Association 
at Princeton, December, 1894, and reprinted with some unimportant omissions, a few 
slight revisions, and the addition of some explanatory notes. 



the lemon and the sugar at once. In a major chord our ear 
can single out the c, e, g, and c r , if it has once become 
acquainted with these notes apart. And so on through the 
whole field of our experience, whether conceptual or sensi- 
ble. Neither common sense nor commonplace psychology 
finds anything special to explain in these facts. Common 
sense simply says the mind 'Brings the things together,' 
and common psychology says the ' ideas ' of the various 
things combine,' and at most will admit that the occasions 
on which ideas combine may be made the subject of inquiry. 
But to formulate the phenomenon of knowing things to- 
gether thus as a combining of ideas, is already to foist in a 
theory about the phenomenon simply. Not so should a 
question be approached. The phenomenon offers itself, in 
the first instance, as that of knowing things together ; and it 
is in those terms that its solution must, in the first instance 
at least, be sought. 

'Things,' then; to 'know' things; and to know the 
4 same ' things together ' which elsewhere we knew singly 
here, indeed, are terms concerning each of which we must 
put the question, ' What do we mean by it when we use 
it?' that question that Shad worth Hodgson lays so much 
stress on, and that is so well taught to students, as the 
beginning of all sound method, by our colleague Fullerton. 
And in exactly ascertaining what we do mean by such terms 
there might lie a lifetime of occupation. 

For we do mean something; and we mean something 
true. Our terms, whatever confusion they may connote, 
denote at least a fundamental fact of our experience, whose 
existence no one here present will deny. 


What, then, do we mean by ' things' ? To this question 
I can only make the answer of the idealistic philosophy. 
For the philosophy that began with Berkeley, and has led 
up in our tongue to Shadworth Hodgson, things have no 
other nature than thoughts have, and we know of no things 
that are not given to somebody's experience. When I see 


the thing white paper before my eyes, the nature of the 
thing and the nature of my sensations are one. Even if 
with science we supposed a molecular architecture beneath 
the smooth whiteness of the paper, that architecture itself 
could only be defined as the stuff of a farther possible expe- 
rience, a vision, say, of certain vibrating particles with 
which our acquaintance with the paper would terminate if 
it were prolonged by magnifying artifices not yet known. 
A thing may be my phenomenon or some one else's; it may 
be frequently or infrequently experienced ; it may be shared 
by all of us ; one of our copies of it may be regarded as the 
original, and the other copies as representatives of that 
original; it may appear very differently at different times; 
but whatever it be, the stuff of which it is made is thought- 
stuff, and whenever we speak of a thing that is out of our 
own mind, we either mean nothing; or we mean a thing that 
was or will be in our own mind on another occasion ; or, 
finally, we mean a thing in the mind of some other possible 
receiver of experiences like ours. 

Such being 'things,' what do we mean by saying that 
we ' know ' them ? 

There are two ways of knowing things, knowing them 
immediately or intuitively, and knowing them conceptually 
or representatively. Although such things as the white 
paper before our eyes can be known intuitively, most of the 
things we know, the tigers now in India, for example, or 
the scholastic system of philosophy, are known only repre- 
sentatively or symbolically. 

Suppose, to fix our ideas, that we take first a case of 
conceptual knowledge ; and let it be our knowledge of the 
tigers in India, as we sit here. Exactly what do we mean 
by saying that we here know the tigers ? What is the pre- 
cise fact that the cognition so confidently claimed is known- 
as, to use Shadworth Hodgson's inelegant but valuable form 
of words ? 

Most men would answer that what we mean by knowing 
the tigers is having them, however absent in body, become 
in some way present to our thought; or that our knowledge 
of them is known as presence of our thought to them. A 
great mystery is usually made of this peculiar presence in 


absence ; and the scholastic philosophy, which is only com- 
mon sense grown pedantic, would explain it as a peculiar 
kind of existence, called intentional inexistence, of the tigers 
in our mind. At the very least, people would say that what 
we mean by knowing the tigers is mentally pointing towards 
them as we sit here. 

But now what do we mean by pointing, in such a case 
as this ? What is the pointing known-as, here ? 

To this question I shall have to give a very prosaic 
answer one that traverses the prepossessions not only of 
common sense and scholasticism, but also those of nearly all 
the epistemological writers whom I have ever read. The 
answer, made brief, is this: The pointing of our thought 
to the tigers is known simply and solely as a procession 
of mental associates and motor consequences that follow on 
the thought, and that would lead harmoniously, if followed 
out, into some ideal or real context, or even into the imme- 
diate presence, of the tigers. It is known as our rejection 
of a jaguar, if that beast were shown us as a tiger ; as our 
assent to a genuine tiger if so shown. It is known as our 
ability to utter all sorts of propositions which don't contra- 
dict other propositions that are true of the real tigers. It 
is even known, if we take the tigers very seriously, as 
actions of ours which may terminate in directly intuited 
tigers, as they would if we took a voyage to India for the 
purpose of tiger-hunting and brought back a lot of skins of 
the striped rascals which we had laid low. In all this there 
is no self-transcendency in our mental images taken by 
themselves. They are one physical fact; the tigers are 
another ; and their pointing to the tigers is a perfectly com- 
monplace physical relation, if you once grant a connecting 
world to be there. In short, the ideas and the tigers are in 
themselves as loose and separate, to use Hume's language, 
as any two things can be; and pointing means here an 
operation as external and adventitious as any that nature 
yields. 1 

1 A stone in one field may ' fit,' we say, a hole in another field. But the relation 
of ' fitting,' so long as no one carries the stone to the hole and drops it in, is only one 
name for the fact that such an act may happen. Similarly with the knowing of the 
tigers here and now. It is only an anticipatory name for a further associative and ter- 
minative process that may occur. 


I hope you may agree with me now that in representative 
knowledge there is no special inner mystery, but only an 
outer chain of physical or mental intermediaries connecting 
thought and thing. To know an object is here to lead to it 
through a context which the world supplies. All this was most 
instructively set forth by our colleague Miller, of Bryn 
Mawr, at our meeting in New York last Christmas, and for 
re-confirming my sometime wavering opinion, I owe him 
this acknowledgment. 1 

Let us next pass on to the case of immediate or intuitive 
acquaintance with an object, and let the object be the white 
paper before our eyes. The thought-stuff and the thing- 
stuff are here' indistinguishably the same in nature, as we 
saw a moment since, and there is no context of intermedia- 
ries or associates to stand between and separate the thought 
and thing. There is no 'presence in absence' here, and no 
' pointing,' but rather an allround embracing of the paper by 
the thought ; and it is clear that the knowing cannot now be 
explained exactly as it was when the tigers were its object. 
Dotted all through our experience are states of immediate 
acquaintance just like this. Somewhere our belief always 
does rest on ultimate data like the whiteness, smoothness, 
or squareness of this paper. Whether such qualities be 
truly ultimate aspects of being or only provisional supposi- 
tions of ours, held-to till we get better informed, is quite 
immaterial for our present inquiry. So long as it is believed 
in, we see our object face to face. What now do we mean 
by ' knowing' such a sort of object as this? For this is also 
the way in which we should know the tiger if our concep- 
tual idea of him were to terminate by having led us to his 

This address must not become too long, so I must give 
my answer in the fewest words. And let me first say this : 
So far as the white paper or other ultimate datum of our 
experience is considered to enter also into some one else's 
experience, and we, in knowing it, are held to know it there 
as well as here ; so far again as it is considered to be a mere 

1 See also Dr. Miller's article on Truth and Error, in the Philosophical Review, 
July, 1893. 



<mask for hidden molecules that other now impossible expe- 
diences of our own might some day lay bare to view ; so far 
iit is a case of tigers in India again the things known being 
^absent experiences, the knowing can only consist in passing 
smoothly towards them through the intermediary context 
that the world supplies. But if our own private vision of 
the paper be considered in abstraction from every other 
event, as if it constituted by itself the universe (and it might 
perfectly well do so, for aught we can understand to the 
contrary), then the paper seen and the seeing of it are only 
two names for one indivisible fact which, properly named, is 
the datum, the phenomenon, or the experience. The paper is in 
the mind and the mind is around the paper, because paper 
and mind are only two names that are given later to the one 
experience, when, taken in a larger world of which it forms 
a part, its connections are traced in different directions. 1 To 
know immediately, then, or intuitively, is for mental content and 
object to be identical. This is a very different definition from 
that which we gave of representative knowledge ; but neither 
definition involves those mysterious notions of self-transcen- 
dency and presence in absence which are such essential parts 
of the ideas of knowledge, both of common men and of 

1 What is meant by this is that ' the experience ' can be referred to either of two 
great associative systems, that of the experiencer's mental history, or that of the expe- 
rienced facts of the world. Of both of these systems it forms part, and may be 
regarded, indeed, as one of their points of intersection. One might let a vertical line 



stand for the mental history ; but the same object, O, appears also in the mental history 
of different persons, represented by the other vertical lines. It thus ceases to be the 
private property of one experience, and becomes, so to speak, a shared or public thing. 
We can track its outer history in this way, and represent it by the horizontal line. [It 
is also known representatively at other points of the vertical lines, or intuitively there 
again, so that the line of its outer history would have to be looped and wandering, but 
I make it straight for simplicity's sake.] In any case, however, it is the same stu/ 
that figures in all ths sets, of lines. 


philosophers. Is there no experience that can justify these 
notions, and show us somewhere their original? 

I think the mystery of presence in absence (though we 
fail to find it between one experience and another remote 
experience to which it points, or between the content ' and 
* object* of any one experience falsely rent asunder by the ap- 
plication to it of these two separate names) may yet be found, 
and found between the parts of a single experience. Let us 
look for it, accordingly, in its simplest possible form. What 
is the smallest experience in which the mystery remains? 
If we seek, we find that there is no datum so small as not to 
show the mystery. The smallest effective pulse of conscious- 
ness, whatever else it may be consciousness of, is also con- 
sciousness of passing time. The tiniest feeling that we can 
possibly have involves for future reflection two sub-feelings, 
one earlier and the other later, and a sense of their continu- 
ous procession. All this has been admirably set forth by 
Mr. Shadworth Hodgson, 1 who shows that there is literally 
no such datum as that of the present moment, and no such 
content, and no such object, except as an unreal postulate of 
abstract thought. The passing moment is the only thing 
that ever concretely was or is or shall be ; and in the phe- 
nomenon of elementary memory, whose function is to appre- 
hend it, earlier and later are present to each other in an 
experience that feels either only on condition of feeling both 

We have the same knowing together in the matter that 
fills the time. The rush of our thought forward through its 
fringes is the everlasting peculiarity of its life. We realize 
this life as something always off its balance, something in 
transition, something that shoots out of a darkness through a 
dawn into a brightness that we know to be the dawn fulfilled. 
In the very midst of the alteration our experience comes as 
one continuous fact. Yes,' we say at the moment of full 
brightness, this is what I meant. No, we feel at the moment 
of the dawning, this is not yet the meaning, there is more 
to come. In every crescendo of sensation, in every effort 

1 Philosophy of Reflection, Vol. I, p. 248 ff. 


to recall, in every progress towards the satisfaction of desire, 
this succession of an emptiness and fulness that have refer- 
ence to each other and are one flesh is the essence of the 
phenomenon. In every hindrance of desire the sense of 
ideal presence of what is absent in fact, of an absent, in a 
word, which the only function of the present is to mean, is 
even more notoriously there. And in the movement of 
thoughts not ordinarily classed as involving desire, we have 
the same phenomenon. When I say Socrates is \mortal, the 
moment Socrates is incomplete ; it falls forward through the 
is which is pure movement, into the mortal, which is indeed 
bare mortal on the tongue, but for the mind, is that mortal, 
the mortal Socrates, at last satisfactorily disposed of and 
told off. 

Here, then, inside of the minimal pulse of experience 
which, taken as object, is change of feeling, and, taken as 
content, is feeling of change, is realized that absolute and 
essential self-transcendency which we swept away as an 
illusion when we sought it between a content taken as a 
whole and a supposed objective thing outside. Here in the 
elementary datum of which both our physical and our men- 
tal worlds are built, we find included both the original of 
presence in absence and the prototype of that operation of know- 
ing many things together which it is our business to discuss } 

1 It seems to me that we have here something like what comes before us in the 
psychology of space and time. Our original intuition of space is the single field of 
view ; our original intuition of time covers but a few seconds ; yet by an ideal piecing 
together and construction we frame the notions of immensity and eternity, and sup- 
pose dated events and located things therein, of whose actual intervals we grasp no 
distinct idea. So in the case before us. The way in which the constituents of one 
undivided datum drag each other in and run into one, saying this is what that means, 
gives us our original intuition of what knowing is. That intuition we extend and con- 
structively build up into the notion of a vast tissue of knowledge, shed along from 
experience to experience until, dropping the intermediary data from our thought, we 
assume that terms the most remote still know each other, just after the fashion of the 
parts of the prototypal fact. Cognition here is only constructive, as we have already 
seen. But he who should say, arguing from its nature here, that it nowhere is direct, 
and seek to construct it without an originally given pattern, would be like those psy- 
chologists who profess to develop our idea of space out of the association of data that 
possess no original extensity. Grant the sort of thing that is meant by presence in 
absence, by self-transcendency, by reference to another, by pointing forward or back, 
by knowledge in short, somewhere in our experience, be it in ever so small a corner, 
and the construction of pseudo-cases elsewhere follows as a matter of course. But to 
get along without the real thing anywhere seems difficult indeed. 


For the fact that past and future are already parts of 
the least experience that can really be, is just like what 
we find in any other case of an experience whose parts 
are many. Most of these experiences are of objects per- 
ceived to be simultaneous and not to be immediately suc- 
cessive as in the heretofore considered case. The field of 
view, the chord of music, the glass of lemonade are exam- 
ples. But the gist of the matter is the same it is always 
knowing-together. You cannot separate the consciousness 
of one part from that of all the rest. What is given is 
pooled and mutual; there is no dark spot, no point of ignor- 
ance ; no one fraction is eclipsed from any other's point of 
view. Can we account for such a being-known-together 
of complex facts like these ? 

The general nature of it we can probably never account 
for, or tell how such a unity in manyness can be, for it 
seems to be the ultimate essence of all experience, and any- 
thing less than it apparently cannot be at all. But the 
particular conditions whereby we know particular things 
together might conceivably be traced, and to that humble 
task I beg leave to devote the time that remains. 


Let me say forthwith that I have no pretension to give 
any positive solution. My sole ambition now is, by a little 
classification, to smooth the ground somewhat so that some 
of you, more able than I, may be helped to advance, before 
our next meeting perhaps, to results that I cannot obtain. 

Now, the first thing that strikes us in these complex 
cases is that the condition by which one thing may come to 
be known together with other things is an event. It is often 
an event of the purely physical order. A man walks sud- 
denly into my field of view, and forthwith becomes part 
of it. I put a drop of cologne-water on my tongue, and, 
holding my nostrils, get the taste of it alone, but when I 
open my nostrils I get the smell together with the taste in 
mutual suffusion. Here it would seem as if a sufficient con- 
dition of the knowing of (say) three things together were 
the fact that the three several physical conditions of the 


knowing of each of them were realized at once. But in many 
other cases we find on the contrary that the physical condi- 
tions are realized without the things being known together 
at all. When absorbed in experiments with the cologne- 
water, for example, the clock may strike, and I not know 
that it has struck. But again, some seconds after the stri- 
king has elapsed, I may, by a certain shifting of what we call 
my attention, hark back to it and resuscitate the sound, and 
even count the strokes in memory. The condition of know- 
ing the clock's striking is here an event of the mental order 
which must be added to the physical event of the striking 
before I can know it and the cologne-water at once. Just 
so in the field of view I may entirely overlook and fail to 
notice even so important an object as a man, until the in- 
ward event of altering my attention makes me suddenly see 
him with the other objects there. In those curious phe- 
nomena of dissociation of consciousness with which recent 
studies of hypnotic, hysteric and trance-states have made us 
familiar (phenomena which surely throw more new light on 
human nature than the work of all the psycho-physical 
laboratories put together), the event of hearing a ' sugges- 
tion,' or the event of passing into trance or out of it, is what 
decides whether a human figure shall appear in the field of 
view or disappear, and whether a whole set of memories 
shall come before the mind together, along with its other 
objects, or be excluded from their company. There is in 
fact no possible object, however completely fulfilled may be 
the outer condition of its perception, whose entrance into a 
given field of consciousness does not depend on the addi- 
tional inner event called attention. 

Now, it seems to me that this need of a final inner event, 
over and above the mere sensorial conditions, quite refutes 
and disposes of the associationist theory of the unity of con- 
sciousness. By associationist theory, I mean any theory 
that says, either implicitly or explicitly, that for a lot of 
objects to be known together, it suffices that a lot of con- 
scious states, each with one of them as its content, should 
exist, as James Mill says, synchronically.' Synchronical 
existence of the ideas does not suffice, as the facts we now 


have abundantly show. Gurney's, Binet's and Janet's proofs 
of several dissociated consciousnesses existing synchroni- 
cally, and dividing the subject's field of knowledge between 
them, is the best possible refutation of any such view. 

Union in consciousness must be made by something, 
must be brought about; and to have perceived this truth is 
the great merit of the anti-associationist psychologists. 1 
The form of unity, they have obstinately said, must be 
specially accounted for; and the form of unity the radical 
associationists have as obstinately shied away from and 
ignored, though their accounts of those preliminary condi- 
tions that supply the matters to be united have never been 
surpassed. As far as these go, we are all, I trust, associa- 
tionists, and reverers of the names of Hartley, Mill, and 

Let us now rapidly review the chief attempts of the anti- 
associationists to fill the gap they discern so well in the 
associationist tale. 

i. Attention. Attention, we say, by turning to an object, 
includes it with the rest; and the naming of this faculty in 
action has by some writers been considered a sufficient 
account of the decisive 'event.' 2 But it is plain that the 
act of Attention itself needs a farther account to be given, 
and such an account is what other theories of the event 
implicitly give. 

We find four main types 3 of other theory of how par- 

1 In this rapid paper I content myself with arguing from the experimental fact 
that something happens over and above the realization of sensorial conditions, wherever 
an object adds itself to others already ' before the mind.' I say nothing of the logical 
self-contradiction involved in the associationist doctrine that the two facts, ' A is 
known,' and 'Bis known,' are the third fact, 'A + B are known together.' Those 
whom the criticisms already extant in print of this strange belief have failed to con- 
vince, would not be persuaded, even though one rose from the dead. The appeal to 
the actual facts of dissociation may make impression, however, even on such hardened 
hearts as theirs. 

* It might seem natural to mention Wundt's doctrine of ' Apperception ' here. 
But I must confess my inability to say anything about it that would not resolve itself 
into a tedious comparison of texts. Being alternately described as intellection, will, 
feeling, synthesis, analysis, principle and result, it is too ' protean ' a function to lend 
itself to any simplified account at second hand. 

8 It is only for the sake of completeness that we need r mention such notions of a 
$ort of mechanical and chemical activity between the ideas as we find in Herbart, 


ticular things get known together, a physiological, a psy- 
chological, an animistic, and a transcendentalist type. Of 
the physiological or ' psycho-physical ' type many varieties 
are possible, but it must be observed that none of them pre- 
tends to assign anything more than an empirical law. A 
psycho-physical theory can couple certain antecedent condi- 
tions with their result; but an explanation, in the sense of 
an inner reason why the result should have the nature of 
one content with many parts instead of some entirely differ- 
ent nature, is what a psycho-physical theory cannot give. 1 

2. Reminiscence. Now, empirically, we have learned that 
things must be known in succession and singly before they 
can be known together. 2 If A, B, and C, for example, were 
outer things that came for the first time and affected our 
senses all at once, we should get one content from the lot of 
them and make no discriminations. The content would 
symbolically point to the objects A, B, C, and eventually 
terminate there, but would contain no parts that were 
immediately apprehended as standing for A, B, and C 
severally. Let A, B, and C stand for pigments, or for 
a tone and its overtones, and you will see what I mean 
when I say that the first result on consciousness of their 
falling together on the eye or ear would be a single new 

Steinthal and others. These authors see clearly that mere synchronical existence is 
not combination, and attribute to the ideas dynamic influences upon each other ; pres- 
sures and resistances according to Herbart, and according to Steinthal ' psychic attrac- 
tions.' But the philosophical foundation of such physical theories have been so- 
slightly discussed by their authors that it is better to treat them only as rhetorical 
metaphors and pass on. Herbart, moreover, must also be mentioned later, along with 
the animistic writers. 

1 We find this impotence already when we seek the conditions of the passing pulse 
of consciousness, which, as we saw, always involves time and change. We account. 
for the passing pulse, physiologically, by the overlapping of dying and dawning brain- 
processes ; *iand at first sight the elements time and change, involved in both the brain- 
processes and their mental result, gives a similarity that, we feel, might be the real 
reason for the psycho-physic coupling. But the moment we ask ' metaphysical ' ques- 
tions "Why not each brain-process felt apart? Why just this amount of time, 
neither more nor less?" etc., etc. we find ourselves falling back on the empirical 
view as the only safe one to defend. 

2 The latest empirical contribution to this subject, with which I am acquainted, is 
Dr. Herbert Nichols' excellent little monograph, 'Our Notions of Number and 
Space.' Boston, Ginn & Co., 1894. 


kind of feeling rather than a feeling with three kinds of 
inner part. Such a result has been ascribed to a ' fusion ' 
of the three feelings of A, B, and C; but there seems no 
ground for supposing that, under the conditions assumed, 
these distinct feelings have ever been aroused at all. I 
should call the phenomenon one of indiscriminate knowing 
together, for the most we can say under the circumstances is 
that the content resembles somewhat each of the objects 
A, B, and C, and knows them each potentially, knows them, 
that is, by possibly leading to each smoothly hereafter, as 
we know Indian tigers even whilst sitting in this room. 

But if our memory possess stored-up images of former 
A-s, B-s, and C-s, experienced in isolation, we get an alto- 
gether different content, namely, one through which we 
know A, B, and C together, and yet know each of them in 
discrimination through one of the content's own parts. 
This has been called a colligation ' or Verknupfung of the 
' ideas ' of A, B, and C, to distinguish it from the afore- 
said fusion. Whatever we may call it, we see that its 
physiological condition is more complex than in the pre- 
vious case. In both cases the outer objects, A, B, and 
C, exert their effects on the sensorium. But in this case 
there is a cooperation of higher tracts of memory which 
in the former case was absent. Discriminative knowing- 
together^ in short, involves higher processes of reminiscence. 
Do these give the element of manyness, whilst the lower 
sensorial processes that by themselves would result in mere 
* fusion,' give the unity to the experience? The sugges- 
tion is one that might repay investigation, although it has 
against it two pretty solid objections : first, that in man the 
consciousness attached to infra-cortical centres is altogether 
subliminal, if it exist ; and, second, that in the cortex itself 
we have not yet discriminated sensorial from ideational pro- 
cesses. Possibly the frontal lobes, in which Wundt has 
supposed an Apperceptionsorgan, might serve a turn here. 
In any case it is certain that, into our present rough notions 
of the cortical functions, the future will have to weave dis- 
tinctions at present unknown. 


3. Synergy. The theory that, physiologically, the one- 
ness precedes the manyness, may be contrasted with a 
theory' that our colleagues Baldwin and Miinsterberg are 
at present working out, and which places the condition of 
union of many data into one datum, in the fact that the 
many pour themselves into one motor discharge. The 
motor discharge being the last thing to happen, the condi- 
tion of manyness would physiologically here precede and 
that of oneness follow. A printed word is apprehended as 
one object, at the same time that each letter in it is appre- 
hended as one of its parts. Our secretary, Cattell, long ago 
discovered that we recognize words of four or five letters 
by the eye as quickly, or even more quickly, than we recog- 
nize single letters. Recognition means here the motor pro- 
cess of articulation ; and the quickness comes from the fact 
that all the letters in the particular combination unhesita- 
tingly cooperate in the one articulatory act. I suppose 
such facts as these to lie at the base of our colleagues' 
theories, which probably differ in detail, and which it would 
be manifestly unjust to discuss or guess about in advance of 
their completer publication. Let me only say that I hope 
the latter may not be long delayed. 

These are the only types of physiological theory worthy 
of mention. I may next pass to what, for brevity's sake, 
may be called psychological accounts of the event that lets an 
object into consciousness, or, by not occurring, leaves it 
out. These accounts start from the fact that what figures 
as part of a larger object is often perceived to have relations 
to the other parts. Accordingly the event in question is 
described as an act of relating thought. It takes two forms. 

4. Relating to Self. Some authors say that nothing can 
enter consciousness except on condition that it be related 
to the self. Not object, but object-plus-me, is the minimum 

5. Relating to other Objects. Others think it enough if 
the incoming object be related to the other objects already 
there. To fail to appear related is to fail to be known at 
all. To appear related is to appear with other objects. If 
relations were correlates of special cerebral processes, the 


addition of these to the sensorial processes would be the 
wished-for event. But brain physiology as yet knows noth- 
ing of such special processes, so I have called this explana- 
tion purely psychological. There seem to be fatal objec- 
tions to it as a universal statement, for the reference to self, 
if it exist, must in a host of cases be altogether subcon- 
scious ; and introspection assures us that in many half- wak- 
ing and half-drunken states the relations between things 
that we perceive together may be of the dimmest and most 
indefinable kind. 

6. The Individual Soul. So we next proceed to the ani- 
mistic account. By this term I mean to cover every sort of 
individualistic soul-theory. I will say nothing of older 
opinions; but in modern times we have two views of the 
way in which the union of a many by a soul occurs. For 
Herbart, for example, it occurs because the soul itself is 
unity, and all its Selbsterhaltungen are obliged to necessa- 
rily share this form. For our colleague Ladd, on the other 
hand, to take the best recent example, it occurs because 
the soul, which is a real unity indeed, furthermore per- 
forms a unifying act on the naturally separate data of sense 
an act, moreover, for which no psycho-physical analo- 
gon can be found. It must be admitted that much of the 
reigning bias against the soul in so-called scientific circles 
is an unintelligent prejudice, traceable far more to a vague 
impression that it is a theological superstition than to 
exact logical grounds. The soul is an ' entity/ and, indeed, 
that worst sort of entity, a 'scholastic entity;' and, more- 
over, it is something to be damned or saved ; so let's have no 
more of it ! I am free to confess that in my own case the 
antipathy to the Soul with which I find myself burdened is 
an ancient hardness of heart of which I can frame no fully 
satisfactory account even to myself. I passively agree that 
if there were Souls that we could use as principles of expla- 
nation, the formal settlement of the questions now before us 
could run far more smoothly towards its end. I admit that 
a soul is a medium of union, and that brain-processes and 
ideas, be they never so ' synchronical,' leave all mediating 
agency out. Yet, in spite of these concessions, I never find 


myself actively taking up the soul, so to speak, and making 
it do work in my psychologizing. I speak of myself here 
because I am one amongst many, and probably few of us can 
give adequate reasons for our dislike. The more honor to 
our colleague from Yale, then, that he remains so unequivo- 
cally faithful to this unpopular principle ! And let us hope 
that his forthcoming book may sweep what is blind in our 
hostility away. 1 

But all is not blind in our hostility. When, for example, 
you say that A, B, and C, which are distinct contents on 
other occasions, are now on this occasion joined into the 
compound content ABC by a unifying act of the soul, you 
say little more than that now they are united, unless you 
give some hint as to how the soul unites them. When, for 
example, the hysteric women which Pierre Janet has studied 
with such loving care, go to pieces mentally, and their souls 
are unable any longer to connect the data of their experi- 
ence together, though these data remain severally conscious 
in dissociation, what is the condition on which this inability 
of the soul depends ? Is it an impotence in the soul itself ? 
or is it an impotence in the physiological conditions, which 
fail to stimulate the soul sufficiently to its synthetic task ? 
The how supposes on the Soul's part a constitution adequate 
to the act. An hypothesis, we are told in the logic-books, 
ought to propose a being that has some other constitution 
and definition than that of barely performing the phenome- 
non it is evoked to explain. When physicists propose the 
' ether,' for example, they propose it with a lot of incidental 
properties. But the soul proposed to us has no special 
properties or constitution of which we are informed. Nev- 

1 1 ought, perhaps, to apologize for not expunging from my printed text these 
references to Professor Ladd, which were based on the impression left on my mind 
by the termination of his Physiological Psychology. It would now appear from the 
paper read by him at the Princeton meeting, and his ' Philosophy of Mind,' just pub- 
lished, that he disbelieves in the Soul of old-fashioned ontology ; and on looking 
again at the P. P., I see that I may well have misinterpreted his deeper mean- 
ing there. I incline to suspect, however, that he had himself not fully disentangled it 
when that work was written ; and that between now and then his thought has been 
evolving somewhat, as Lotze's did, between his ' Medical Psychology ' and his ' Meta- 
physic.' It is gratifying to note these converging tendencies in different philosophers ; 
but I leave the text as I read it at Princeton, as a mark of what one could say not so 
very unnaturally at that date. 


ertheless, since particular conditions do determine its activ- 
ity, it must have a constitution of some sort. In either case, 
we ought to know the facts. But the soul-doctrine, as hith- 
erto professed, not only doesn't answer such questions, it 
doesn't even ask them ; and it must be radically rejuvenated 
if it expects to be greeted again as a useful principle in psy- 
chological philosophy. Here is work for our spiritualist 
colleagues, not only for the coming year, but for the rest of 
their lives. 1 

7. The World-soul. The second spiritualist theory may 
be named as that of transcendentalism. I take it typically 
and not as set forth by any single author. Transcendental- 
ism explains things by an over-soul of which all separate 
souls, sensations, thoughts, and data generally are parts. To 
be, as it would be known together with everything else in 
the world by this over-soul, is for transcendentalism the true 
condition of each single thing, and to pass into this condition 
is for things to fulfill their vocation. Such being known 
together, since it is the innermost reality of life, cannot on 
transcendentalist principles be explained or accounted for 
as a work wrought on a previous sort of reality. The 
monadic soul-theory starts with separate sensational data, 
and must show how they are made one. The transcen- 
dentalist theory has rather for its task to show how, 
being one, they can spuriously and illusorily be made to 
appear separate. The problem for the monadic soul, in 
short, is that of unification, and the problem for the over- 
soul is that of insulation. The removal of insulating obstruc- 

1 The soul can be taken in three ways as a unifying principle. An already exist- 
ing lot of animated sensations (or other psychic data) may be simply woven into one 
by it ; in which case the form of unity is the soul's only contribution, and the original 
stuff of the Many remains in the One as its stuff also. Or, secondly, the resultant 
synthetic One may be regarded as an immanent reaction of the Soul on the preexisting 
psychic Many ; and in this case the Soul, in addition to creating the new form, repro- 
duces in itself the old stuff of the . Many, superseding it for our use, and making 
it for us become subliminal, but not suppressing its existence. Or, thirdly, the One 
may again be the Soul's immanent reaction on a physiological, not on a mental, Many. 
In this case preexisting sensations or ideas would not be there at all, to be either 
woven together or superseded. The synthetic One would be a primal psychic datum 
with parts, either of which might know the same object that a possible sensation, real- 
ized under other physiological conditions, could also know. 


tions would sufficiently account for things reverting to their 
natural place in the over-soul and being known together.. 
The most natural insulating or individualizing principle to^ 
invoke is the bodily organism. As the pipes of an organ let 
the pressing mass of air escape only in single notes, so do our 
brains, the organ pipes of the infinite, keep back everything 
but the slender threads of truth to which they may be per- 
vious. As they obstruct more, the insulation increases, as- 
they obstruct less it disappears. Now transcendental phi- 
losophers have as a rule not done much dabbling in psychol- 
ogy. But one sees no abstract reason why they might not 
go into psychology as fully as any one, and erect a psycho- 
physical science of the conditions of more separate and less- 
separate cognition which would include all the facts that 
psycho-physicists in general might discover. And they would 
have the advantage over other psycho-physicists of not need- 
ing to explain the nature of the resultant knowing-together 
when it should occur, for they could say that they simply 
begged it as the ultimate nature of the world. 

This is as broad a disjunction as I can make of the different 
ways in which men have considered the conditions of our 
knowing things together. You will agree with me that I have 
brought no new insight to the subject, and that I have only 
gossiped to while away this unlucky presidential hour to' 
which the constellations doomed me at my birth. But since 
gossip we have had to have, let me make the hour more 
gossipy still by saying a final word about the position taken 
up in my own Principles of Psychology on the general question 
before us, a position which, as you doubtless remember, was 
so vigorously attacked by our colleague from the University 
of Pennsylvania at our meeting in New York a year ago. 1 
That position consisted in this, that I proposed to simply 
eliminate from psychology considered as a natural science " 
the whole business of ascertaining how we come to know 
things together or to know them at all. Such considera- 
tions, I said, should fall to metaphysics. That we do know 

1 Printed as an article entitled ' The Psychological Standpoint,' in this REVIEW,. 
Vol. I, p. 113. (March, 1894.) 


things, sometimes singly and sometimes together, is a fact. 
That states of consciousness are the vehicle of the knowl- 
edge, and depend on brain states, are two other facts. And 
I thought that a natural science of psychology might legiti- 
mately confine itself to tracing the functional variations of 
these three sorts of fact, and ascertaining and tracing what 
determinate bodily states are the condition when the states 
of mind know determinate things and groups of things. 
Most states of mind can be designated only by naming what 
objects they are * thoughts-of,' i. e., what things they know. 
Most of those which know compound things are utterly 
unique and solitary mental entities demonstrably different 
from any collection of simpler states to which the same 
objects might be singly known. 1 Treat them all as unique in 
entity, I said then ; let their complexity reside in their 
plural cognitive function ; and you have a psychology which, 
if it doesn't ultimately explain the facts, also does not, in ex- 

1 When they know conceptually they don't even remotely resemble the simpler 
states. When they know intuitively they resemble, sometimes closely, sometimes 
distantly, the simpler states. The sour and sweet in lemonade are extremely unlike 
the sour and sweet of lemon juice and sugar, singly taken, yet like enough for us to 
' recognize ' these ' objects ' in the compound taste. The several objective ' notes ' 
recognized in the chord sound differently and peculiarly there. In a motley field of 
view successive and simultaneous contrast give to each several tint a different hue 
and luminosity from that of the ' real ' color into which it turns when viewed without 
its neighbors by a rested eye. The difference is sometimes so slight, however, that 
we overlook the ' representative ' character of each of the parts of a complex content, 
and speak as if the latter were a cluster of the original ' intuitive ' states of mind that, 
occurring singly, know the ' object's ' several parts in separation. Prof. Meinong, for 
example, even after the true state of things had been admirably set forth by Herr H. 
Cornelius (in the Vierteljahrschrift f. wiss. Phil., XVI, 404; XVII, 30), returns to 
the defence of the radical associationist view (in the Zeitschrift f. Psychologic, VI, 
340, 417). According to him, the single sensations of the several notes lie unaltered in 
the chord-sensations ; but his analysis of the phenomenon is vitiated by his non- 
recognition of the fact that the same objects (i. e. , the notes) can be known representa- 
tively through one compound state of mind, and directly in several simple ones, without 
the simple and the compound states having strictly anything in common with each 
other. In Meinong's earlier work, Ueber Begriff und Eigenschaften der Empfindung 
(Vierteljahrschrift, vol. XII), he seems to me to have hit the truth much better, when 
he says that the aspect color, e. g. , in a concrete sensation of red, is not an abstractable 
part of the sensation, but an external relation of resemblance between that sensation 
and other sensations to the whole lot of which we give the name of colors. Such, I 
should say, are the aspects of c , e, g and c f in the chord. We may call them parts of 
the chord if we like, but they are not bits of it, identical with c's, e's, g's and </'s else- 
where. They simply resemble the c's, is, g's and c r s elsewhere, and know these con- 
tents or objects representatively. 


pressing them, make them self-contradictory (as the associa- 
tionist psychology does when it calls them many ideas fused 
into one idea) or pretend to explain them (as the soul- 
theory so often does) by a barren verbal principle. 

My intention was a good one, and a natural science 
infinitely more complete than the psychologies we now 
possess could be written without abandoning its terms. 
Like all authors, I have, therefore, been surprised that this 
child of my genius should not be more admired by others 
should, in fact, have been generally either misunderstood or 
despised. But do not fear that on this occasion I am either 
going to defend or to re-explain the bantling. I am going to 
make things more harmonious by simply giving it up. I have 
become convinced since publishing that book that no con- 
ventional restrictions can keep metaphysical and so-called 
epistemological inquiries out of the psychology books. I 
see, moreover, better now than then that my proposal to 
designate mental states merely by their cognitive function 
leads to a somewhat strained way of talking of dreams and 
reveries, and to quite an unnatural way of talking of some 
emotional states. I am willing, consequently, henceforward 
that mental contents should be called complex, just as their 
objects are, and this even in psychology. Not because their 
parts are separable, as the parts of objects are; not because 
they have an eternal or quasi-eternal individual existence, 
like the parts of objects; for the various ' contents ' of which 
they are parts are integers, existentially, and their parts only 
live as long as they live. Still, in them, we can call parts, 
parts. But when, without circumlocution or disguise, I thus 
come over to your views, I insist that those of you who ap- 
plaud me (if any such there be) should recognize the obliga- 
tions which the new agreement imposes on yourselves. Not 
till you have dropped the old phrases, so absurd or so 
empty, of ideas 'self-compounding' or 'united by a spiritual 
principle;' not till you have in your turn succeeded in some 
such long inquiry into conditions as the one I have just 
failed in ; not till you have laid bare more of the nature of 
that altogether unique kind of complexity in unity which 
mental states involve ; not till then, I say, will psychology 
reach any real benefit from the conciliatory spirit of which 
I have done what I can to set an example. 




The Relation between the Intensity of the Stimulus and its 
Estimated Intensity. 

Two stimuli differing greatly in intensity were success- 
ively applied to the hand of the observer, and he was re- 
quired to judge how much greater one was than the other. 
The pressure was given by weights placed in the pan of a 
balance, and was transmitted to the hand by a wooden rod 
attached to the pan. The stimuli were 2, 10, 50, 250, 1250, 
and 1800 grams. The area of stimulation was that of a cir- 
cle 4 mm. in diameter. The experiments made on four 
observers showed that on the average 10 g. was considered 
about twice as heavy as 2 g. ; 50 g. twice as heavy as 10 g. ; 
250 g. three times as heavy as 50 g. ; 1250 g. five times as 
heavy as 25Og. ; and 1800 g. three times as heavy as 1250 g. 
It thus appears that for low and moderate intensities the 
estimate of intensity increases much more slowly than the 
objective intensity; but as the stimulus approaches the 
pain threshold, the reverse appears to be the case. Indi- 
viduals differ, however, in their underestimation of low 
intensities, and also, but to a greater degree, in their over- 
estimation of high intensities. 

The Discrimination of Weights of Different Intensities. 

Cylindrical boxes filled with shot served as stimuli. The 
method used was that of right and wrong cases ; that is, the 
stimuli were placed successively upon the hand, and the ob- 

1 A full account and discussion of these experiments will be found in the writer's 
dissertation, On Sensations from Pressure and Impact. Supplement Monograph 
(No. i) to this REVIEW. 



server was asked to decide which was heavier. The accu- 
racy of discrimination is measured by the probable error, or 
that increment which the observer perceives correctly 75 # 
of the time. 1 Thus the greater the probable error the less 
the accuracy of discrimination. The stimuli varied from 
100 to 3200 g., no more than four intensities being used for 
any one observer. The results of 9040 experiments made 
on 5 observers showed that the probable error for pressure 
stimuli tends to increase in proportion to the intensity of 
the stimulus within the approximate limits 300-3000 g. For 
low intensities the probable error increases much more 
slowly than the stimulus. For 5-7 g. the probable error 
for a good observer was \ of the stimulus. For high inten- 
sities also there seems to be a similar tendency, but it is not 
so marked. As illustrative of our results, we give the prob- 
able errors in grams for McW. : for 100 g., 19; for 500 g., 
36; for 1500 g., 112; for 3200 g., 193. The average value 
of the probable error for all stimuli (100 g. and above) and 
all observers was approximately ^ of the stimulus. That 
is we can, on the average, judge correctly whether one 
stimulus is heavier or lighter than another 75^ of the time 
when the stimuli are in the ratio 9: 10. 

In these experiments the constant error, or tendency to 
overestimate the second stimulus, was found to be for some 
persons very great, running as high as J of the stimulus. 
The constant error is more variable than the probable error ; 
the expression * constant error ' is thus quite misleading. 
The constant error seems to be greater for observers having 
a large probable error. A great constant error for pressure 
is not necessarily accompanied by a similar overestimation 
for lifted weights. 

The degree of confidence was studied by having the ob- 
servers say a, b, c and d, according as they were certain, 
quite confident, less confident, or doubtful. Individuals 
differ greatly in their confidence, the percentage of wrong 
judgments of which observers were confident varying from 
2# to 33 %. The probability of correctness when confident 

1 This quantity has been considered to be equivalent to the least noticeable differ- 
ence. It is doubtful, however,, ifi such, a relation can be justified. 


was for most observers about .8 to .9. There appears to be 
no relation between these quantities and the accuracy of dis- 
crimination. The percentage of correct guesses varied from 
52 # to 70$, the average being 59$. 

The Place of Stimulation 9 . 

The accuracy of discrimination for weights of 100 g. or 
.more is not for two observers appreciably different for the 
ipalm of the hand, the back of the hand, and the volar sur- 
face of the third phalanx of the index finger. For 57 g. it 
was found at first to be much less for the back of the hand 
.and wrist than for the index finger of one observer, but 
to increase greatly by practice. Stimuli of low intensity, 5 
and ioog., when placed on the forearm, tended to be judged 
lighter than when placed on the finger. This result was 
obtained by placing a weight first on the finger and then on 
Ihe arm, increments being added until the weights seemed 

The writer tested the sensitiveness to pain at different 
parts of the body by the algometer. 1 It was found that the 
sensitiveness is greatest where the skin is thin and not sepa- 
rated from the bone by other tissues. Among the most sen- 
sitive parts are the upper regions of the head, whereas the 
palm of the hand, the thigh and the heel are among the least 
sensitive parts. 

Sensations from Impact. 

The tactile threshold for pressure stimuli without move- 
ment was found by observing the angular elevation of a 
bristle which was attached at one end to a wooden handle, 
;and at the other could transmit pressure to the skin. In 
this way it was found that .4 g. is about as easily perceived 
when movement is thus excluded, as is .01 g., when the 
-stimulus is placed carefully upon the hand. The difference 
in the results is due to the sensory effect of movement. 

By dropping weights upon the hand, the heights were 
.found at which different weights caused pain. The weights 
were 25, 100, 200 and 300 g. The area of stimulation was 

1 An instrument by which pressure could be exerted up to 15 k. 


constant, a circle about i cm. in diameter. The results of 
60 measurements showed that the product of the mass and 
height pain-thresholds is fairly constant. As the height 
through which a body falls is proportional to the square of 
the velocity, the pain threshold and therefore the intensity 
of pain, depend as much upon the square of the velocity as 
upon the mass of a striking object. 

By the method of right and wrong cases we studied the- 
accuracy of discrimination for impact stimuli. The results 
of 800 experiments showed that a weight of 50 g., falling" 
through 17.5 cm., is judged about as well as looog. without 
movement. The average probable error for pressure only 
was -^ of the stimulus for S. F., and -fa for L. F. For im- 
pact the corresponding values were ^ and T ^-. 

In 900 experiments, carried on in the same way, the 
weight was kept constant and the observer required to esti- 
mate differences in the intensity of the blow due to differ- 
ences in height and therefore velocity. The results were 
compared with those based upon the same number of experi- 
ments on the same observers, in which the height was 
constant and the weight variable. We found that, on the 
whole, differences in weight are judged less accurately than* 
differences in velocity, but more accurately than differences 
in the square of the velocity. But great individual varia- 
tions occur. 

Experiments were also made on the intensive effect of 
the weight as compared to that of the velocity. A 100 g. 
weight having fallen upon the hand from a height of 5 cm., 
the height was found at which 25 g. would cause a sensation 
of the same intensity. Here also observers differed greatly. 
The average height for 5 observers was 38 cm., the maxi- 
mum being 58, the minimum 20 cm. Hence the mass has in 
general greater intensive effect than the height or the square 
of the velocity. Otherwise the average height found would 
be about 20 cm. On the other hand, the mass has less effect 
than the velocity or square root of the height. 

The Area of Stimulation. 

In the experiments on Weber's law two areas were used, 
8 sq. cm. and .12 sq. cm. approximately. It was found that 


on the whole this difference of area did not affect the accu- 
racy of discrimination for weights. Individual variations, 
however, were very marked. 

If stimuli of the same weight, but different areas, be 
placed successively upon the hand, the stimulus applied on 
the smaller area will be overestimated. By applying the 
method of right and wrong cases we measured this overesti- 
mation. The results of 400 experiments on one observer 
gave an overestimation of J of the stimulus at 200 g. Ex- 
periments by a different application of the method of right 
and wrong cases on 5 observers gave about the same result, 
except that one observer showed a tendency to underesti- 
mate, rather than overestimate, the stimulus applied to the 
smaller area. By a third method, however, we found a 
decided overestimation for only 2 out of 5 observers. From 
these experiments on 10 observers, we conclude that this 
tendency is by no means universal. 

The effect of alterations in the intensity of pressure on 
the accuracy of discrimination of areas was investigated by 
the method of right and wrong cases, differences in area 
being judged instead of differences in intensity. The stand- 
ard areas used were i and 8 sq. cm. and the intensities 
200 and 800 grams. The results of 1900 experiments on 3 
observers showed that the accuracy of discrimination for 
areas was, on the average, about J greater for 200 g. than 
for 800 g. 

By placing thin circular cards upon the hand and apply- 
ing pressure upon these, we studied the effect of variations 
in the area on the so-called tactile threshold. The areas 
were approximately i mm., 10 mm. and 90 mm. The aver- 
ages of the corresponding threshold values, based upon 60 
experiments, were for F., .2 g., .9 g. and 1.9 g. ; and for the 
writer, .5 g., 1.4 g. and 1.6 g. Thus the smaller the area 
the greater the probability that stimuli of low intensity will 
be perceived. 

In a .similar manner the relation of the pain threshold 
to the area of stimulation was investigated. The average 
values of the pain threshold, based upon 80 experiments on 
two observers, were: for 10 mm., 1.4 kilog. ; for 30 mm., 


2.8 kilog. ; for 90 mm., 4.4 kilog. ; and for 270 mm., 6.6 
kilog. Thus the pain threshold increases with the area; 
but, like the tactile threshold, much more slowly than in 
direct proportion. 

The Time of Stimulation. 

The sensory effect of pressure stimuli of low intensity 
was found to depend upon the rate at which the pressure 
was increased. The instrument used was that referred to in 
the experiments already described on the tactile threshold. 
By this pressure was exerted upon the palm of the observer's 
hand up to .4 g., at different rates of increase. These rates 
were approximately .05 g., .3 g. and 2 g. per second. The 
corresponding percentages of times the stimulus was per- 
ceived in 300 experiments on 2 observers were 6^, 32^, and 
82^. Thus the greater the rate of increase the greater the 
probability of perception. 

The time in which dermal stimuli of different intensities 
cause pain was found in the following manner. Different 
weights were placed in a balance pan so as to press upon 
the palm of the hand, and the time was noted which elapsed 
before the appearance of pain. The pressure was commu- 
nicated from the pan to the hand by a wooden rod fastened 
to the pan. The diameter of the base was 1.5 mm. The 
averages in seconds, based upon 80 experiments on 2 ob- 
servers, are as follows: for 100 g., 230 sec. ; for 200 g., 35 
sec. ; for 300 g., 10 sec. ; for 500 g., 4.5 sec. It is evident, 
therefore, that the time as well as the area and intensity of 
stimulation determine the sensory effect. There is, how- 
ever, an intensive limit, below which pressure stimuli never 
become painful. This is probably from 25 to 50 g. for the 
area used. 


Ever since Aristotle described in his De Somniis 1 the 
appearance of an after-image, the phenomena have attracted 

1 This seems not to be generally known by German writers. Aubert and Helm- 
Holtz both credit Peiresc as being the first to mention after-images. 


attention. St. Augustine mentions them, and in modern 
times such prominent men as Buffon, Goethe and Newton 
have described their appearance. But very little was ac- 
complished beyond the making of theories until this century, 
when Plateau, Seguin, Fechner and others studied the color 
changes. Up to the present time practically nothing has 
been accomplished in the way of exact measurement. 

The present paper gives the results of an attempt to 
measure the smallest amount of light which will produce an 
after-image. For this purpose three physical units had to be 
considered the intensity of the light, its area, and the time of 
stimulation. The apparatus used was planned and formerly 
used by Prof. Cattell, but was adapted by the writer. It is 
represented in the accompanying cut. 


S is an upright iron screen pierced by a hole (H) through 
which the light from the hooded lamp (L) may pass to the 
observer on the other side of the screen. P is a seconds 
pendulum. To this is attached a piece of sheet iron which 
covers the hole when the pendulum is held up by the electro- 
magnet (M). The key (K) which makes and breaks the cur- 
rent to the magnet (M) is managed by the experimenter, and 


the pendulum is held up or let swing at his pleasure. By 
breaking and making the current the pendulum swings, per- 
mits the light to be seen by the observer for exactly one 
second, and is caught up again by the magnet. The lamp is 
moved along the arm (A), increasing or decreasing the 
intensity of the light. The opening (H) was covered with 
ground glass, yfoj- candle power was found a convenient 
intensity, this being increased by moving the lamp nearer 
the observer, and decreased by moving it away from the 
observer. The lamp was used at the distances J, ^-, i, 2 
and 4 meters, and so far as the intensity decreases inversely 
as the square of the distance, the respective intensities would 
be A A T*TF> TTO and nnnr candle power. The absorbing 
power of the ground glass was found to be $o/ ct whence 
the intensities were decreased by half making the series 
A T>V> *fop imp romp c - P- In the experiments on inten- 
sity, the time of exposure (one second) and the area (64 
sq. mm.) were kept constant. For the experiments on area, 
the lamp was placed at a distance of J m., thus making the 
intensity fa c. p., the time (one second) being the other 
constant. The area was changed by using different pieces 
of ground glass on which black paper blocked off all but the 
small area required. The areas used were 64, 16, 4, i, J, -fa 
sq. mm. When time was the changeable unit, the area (64 
sq. mm.) and the intensity (fa c. p.) were the constants. The 
series consisted of four times, y^^rp yfop tV and l secon d- 
The shorter times were obtained by means of drop screens, 
made of pasteboard and weighted. As they did not fall in 
grooves there was no appreciable friction, and hence the 
real time practically corresponded with the theoretical time. 
The screen was on the side of the apparatus near the 
observer, and therefore is not shown in the cut. The time 
one second was given by the pendulum. As will be noticed, 
there was a common unit in the three series, i. e., when the 
experiments were made with i sec., 64 sq. mm. and fa c. p. 
The experiments were conducted in a dark room, and all 
observations were made with the eyes open, so as not to 
disturb the after-image. A cloth curtain was hung across 
the room, shutting off from the observer everything but the 


small opening in the screen. The observer's eyes were 30 
cm. from the opening, his head being steadied by a support. 
Before any experiments were made a rest of ten minutes 
was taken to allow the observer's eyes to become accustomed 
to the darkness; between the disappearance of one after- 
image and the next stimulus there was a rest of thirty 
seconds. When the thirty seconds had elapsed a signal was 
given, five seconds were allowed for preparation, and the 
stimulus was produced. 

Very few difficulties presented themselves, and of these 
the only one not overcome was the lack of a fixation point, 
as any fixation point was apt to produce a disturbing after- 
image. By practice, however, the observer learned to look 
in a certain way for the stimulus, and in the case of the 
writer not over five per cent, of the time were the eyes 
consciously focussed after any part of the light was seen. 
The kerosene lamp used was trimmed at the beginning of 
the experiments. By photometric determinations always 
made before a sitting and generally during and after the 
sitting, it was found that the light varied very little or not 
at all. 

Four observers were tested, C., McW. and S. respec- 
tively with time, area and intensity. All were advanced 
students in psychology, and S. had had previous experience 
with after-images. F., the writer, was the fourth observer, 
the three series being made upon him. 

The results of nearly 3,000 experiments are given in the 
following tables. In the first line the percentage of times 
an after-image was seen is given, and in the second line the 
average variation of the sets of ten trials ; 100 experiments 
of each sort were made, excepting in those cases in which a 
different number is given in parenthesis. 

Some preliminary experiments on area made on the writer 
bear out in general the results in the corresponding series. 
These experiments were made with an intensity of -fa c. p., 
so that they could not be combined with the others. The 
other constant was an exposure of one second. The same 
areas were used except that the ^ sq. mm. was omitted. 
Seventy experiments were made on each area. The results, 
with the average variations, are shown in the accompanying 



Intensity in 
candle power. 






( Percentage, 






S. \ 

( Variation, 



25 (no) 

20.8 (no) 


( Per cent., 






F - 1 

( Var., 


1 9. 5 (130) 

1 3- 5 to ) 



Area in 
square mm. 







( Per cent., 
McW. J 




7.5( 80 ) 






( Percent., 







F. \ 

( Var., 







Time in seconds. 





( Per cent, 
C. ] 

( Var., 








( Per cent., 

F. ] 





8. 3 (xao) 




Area in sq. mm. 






( Per cent., 






F. ] 







The results of the first three tables are represented graph- 
ically by the accompanying curves. 


ft * * 

The abscissa denotes respectively divisions of time, area 
and intensity, the ordinate the percentage of times an after- 
image appeared. The curves are not carried out to repre- 
sent the greatest intensity, the greatest area and the greatest 
time. Each curve is the average of the two observers in 
that series, the close agreement of the observers making this 
method permissible. The figures on the abscissa represent 
the proportion of that stimulus to the greatest stimulus, 
taking respectively time, area and intensity as the variables. 

If we regard the threshold as that intensity, time or area, 
which produces an after-image 75^ of the number of 
stimuli, we conclude 

(i). That with an exposure of one second and an intensity 
of ^ c. p., the threshold is 4 sq. mm. 

(2). That with the area 64 sq. mm. and the intensity -fc 
c. p., the threshold is y^j- second. 


(3). That with the area 64 sq. mm. and the time of ex- 
posure one second, the threshold is yj^ candle 
power (approximately), or between -^ and ^-g-c. p. 

If we substitute in our definition 25^, or 50^, or 90^, for 
the 75 #, we but change the figures to suit the case. 

It is worth noting that of the 1,500 cases when after- 
images were seen, but five were negative, a proof of the 
theory that the negative a ter-image is due to exhaustion of 
the eyes, the low intensities, the small areas and the short 
times not being sufficient to tire or exhaust the eyes. These 
five negative images were all seen toward the close of a 
sitting, when the eyes had been used for forty or fifty experi- 
ments, and all were with the greatest intensity, the longest 
time and the largest area. 

With the results obtained we are able to make a further 
comparison a correlation of our physical units in terms of 
the production of after-images a purely psychological prob- 
lem. How much time equals how much intensity or area? 
A glance at the curves and percentages shows that equal 
increments in area, intensity and time do not give equal re- 
sults. If we represent our constants by the letters c, c' and 
c" respectively for intensity, time and area, and let i, t and a 
represent respectively -^ c. p., y^ sec. and ^ sq. mm., 
from the table of percentages we get the following approxi- 
mate equations. 

i c = t c' = a c" 
(2ic) = (i.7tc') = (4ac") 
4 i c = 3.2 t c' = 16 a c" 
8 i c = 10 t c' = 64 a c" 
16 i c = 100 t c' = 256 a c" 

The 8 i c and the 3.2 t c' represent yfo- c. p. and T^ sec. 
(approximately). These figures and the second equation in 
brackets are supplied from the curves. The relations, then, 
may be stated as follows: "Squaring the time equals 
doubling the intensity or quadrupling the area," and vice 
versa, "reducing the area to one-fourth equals halving the 
intensity and taking the square root of the time." Whether 
this be a chance relation or a general one throughout the 
phenomena of after-images cannot be dogmatically stated 
now. The writer has in view the further study of this problem. 



When the fact that the retina contains a substance which 
is chemically acted upon by light was first announced, it 
seemed that the secret of the transformation of energy of 
wave-motion into something capable of being transmitted 
along the nerve fibres and affecting the conscious organism 
as the sensation of light had been definitely, at least in its 
rough stages, unravelled. But immediately difficulties ap- 
peared : the substance could not be detected in the cones, 
and it was therefore apparently wanting in the fovea, the 
spot of most acute vision ; and, moreover, certain classes of 
animals had retinas which contained none of the substance. 
It was therefore certain that the visual purple was not essen- 
tial to vision, and the intense interest which it had at first 
aroused fell wholly into abeyance. 

Prof. Ebbinghaus has recently returned to the subject, 
and has proposed to account for the apparent colorlessness 
of the cones by assuming in them a second substance of 
such a color as always to mark the presence of the visual 
purple. The visual purple (or visual blue, as it must be 
considered for this purpose, although its real color is only a 
very slightly bluish-red) and its product, the visual yellow, 
are the source of the sensations of yellowj[and blue respect- 
ively ; the imaginary substance is, in its two stages, the 
source of the sensations red and green, and is for that pur- 
pose first green and then red in color. Now, a green and a 
purple substance, when present together, might, it is true, 
produce a colorless mixture, since purple and green are 
complementary colors; but a moment later these two sub- 
stances have become respectively yellow and red. What 



becomes of the complementariness then? or when one is 
green and the other yellow? or when one is red and the 
other purple? Or must we suppose that, although thou- 
sands of eyes have been examined, first and last, after every 
possible degree of exposure to light, and to color, still 
chance has brought it about that no stage of this series of 
processes has ever been lighted upon except the first ? So 
short-sighted a theory as this, one in which we must so 
carefully refrain from going beyond the first step of the im- 
agined process, has probably never before been seriously 
proposed for acceptance. 

But the suggestion of Prof. Ebbinghaus has had this, 
good effect, that it has induced Prof. Konig to undertake 
an accurate determination of the relative absorption of the 
visual purple for different kinds of homogeneous light. 1 He 
proposed the question as a subject of investigation to Dr. 
Abelsdorff and Frl. Kottgen. A spectro-photometer espe- 
cially designed for the purpose was constructed, and it was 
hoped that the skill and experience gained in the study of 
the visual purple of the frog they might, in course of time, 
be able to apply to a human retina, if good luck should 
throw one in their way. But, as it happened, the apparatus 
was no sooner set up in one of the dark rooms of the labora- 
tory than they received word that a human retina was to be 
at their disposal ; and Dr. Abelsdorff being suddenly called 
away, the study of it was carried out by Prof. Konig and 
Frl. Kottgen. The patient to whom the eye belonged re- 
mained in absolute darkness for twenty hours before the 
operation. The eye was extracted by the light of a sodium 
flame, put at once into an intensely black box, and rapidly 
conveyed to Prof. Konig's laboratory. Here it was opened, 
twenty minutes after leaving the living body, with all the 
necessary precautions, by an oculist who had already made 
himself familiar, by means of the ophthalmoscope, with the 
exact position of the melano-sarcoma which had caused the 
eye to be extracted. The entire retina, with the exception 

1 Ueber den menschlichen Sehpurpur und seine Bedeutung fur das Sehen. Nacb 
gemeinschaftlich mit Frl. Else Kottgen ausgefUhrten Versuchen. Sitzungsber. <L 
Akad. d. Wissensch. zu Berlin, 21 Juni, 1894. 


of the diseased portion, was put into a solution of gallic acid, 
and after nitration a sufficient amount of the extract was 
obtained to fill twice the minute absorption-box of the spec- 
trophotometer. With the first filling the absorption of the 
visual purple was obtained and compared with the absorp- 
tion of the (not absolutely clear) solution which remained 
after the purple (crimson) color had been wholly bleached 
out; the second filling sufficed for a redetermination of the 
absorption of the visual purple, and for that of the visual 
yellow, which was obtained after the purple had been 
bleached for that color. (The two determinations of the 
absorption of the purple substance are in close agreement 
with each other.) 

It was at once evident that the absorption distribution in 
the spectrum of the purple substance coincided roughly 
with the spectral distribution of brightness for the congen- 
itally totally color-blind, and also with the spectral distribu- 
tion of brightness for the normal eye (as well as for the par- 
tially color-blind) at a very faint degree of luminosity. The 
suggestion was a natural one that it is the vision of the 
totally color-blind, and of the normal eye in a faint light, 
which is dependent upon the absorption of light by the 
visual purple. The curves of sensation in these two cases 
were reduced to a spectrum of equal distribution of energy 
by means of Prof. Langley's determination of the distribu- 
tion of energy throughout the spectrum. Correction was 
also made for the absorption of the macula lutea and for that 
of the crystalline lens (freshly determined for an individual 
of the proper age). It then became evident that the coinci- 
dence between the three curves is remarkably close. (That 
the two curves of sensation referred to are in close agree- 
ment with each other had, of course, already been shown by 
Hering.) It was evident, that is, that the absorption in the 
purple substance is very exactly proportional to the value of 
light as an exciter of sensation (i) in the totally color-blind, 
and (2) in all other eyes at an intensity so faint that colors 
are no longer visible. Prof. Konig had also convinced him- 
self of the existence of a similar coincidence between the 
absorption of the visual yellow and the blue constituent of 


the colors of the spectrum as already determined by himself 
and Dieterici (Zeitsch. f. Psych, u. Phys. der Sinnesorgane, 
IV., S. 241). 

But the difficulty still remained which had originally 
caused the visual purple to fall into neglect, the substance 
is apparently wanting in the cones, and therefore in the 
fovea. To meet this difficulty two assumptions were possi- 
ble : either, that the cones do contain the purple substance, 
but in so decomposable a form that it can never be detected 
objectively, no matter what the precaution used in extract- 
ing the eye ; or, that the eye is actually blind in the fovea in 
the two cases in question. In favor of the first assumption 
was the fact that, if the yellow substance is really the source 
of the sensation of blue, then it must be supposed to exist in 
a less decomposable state in the periphery of the eye to 
account for the fact that we are then nearly blind to blue; 1 
it therefore ' lies near' to assume (when some assumption is 
absolutely necessary) that it exists in a much more decom- 
posable state in the fovea, and that it has for this reason 
hitherto escaped detection. But I was most anxious to put 
the second of these assumptions to the test, the more so as 
I had already made the prediction that the cause of total 
color-blindness is a defective development of the cones; 2 
and also that the function of the visual purple is to render 
possible that form of vision which does not exist until after 
a delay of twenty minutes or so in a dark room ; 3 both pre- 
dictions being naturally suggested by my theory of light- 
sensation. I had also pointed out, in the last-mentioned 
paper, that the visual purple cannot exist in the cones, even 
in a bleached-out state, because the visual purple is fluores- 
cent, and the more so the more it is bleached out, while the 

1 Gad, in his criticism of the papers of Konig and Zumft, about to be mentioned, 
implies (p. 499) that Prof. Konig found the blue-blindness of the fovea forced upon 
him by his hypothesis regarding the function of the visual purple and of the visual yel- 
low. That was not the case ; Prof. Konig had adopted the first of the two assump- 
tions here affirmed to be possible, and it was only some six weeks later that the defect- 
ive vision of the fovea was discovered. 

1 Zeitsch. f. Psych, u. Phys. der Sinnesorgane. Bd. IV. s. 9. 

8 Professor Ebbinghaus* Theory of Colour Vision. MlND, N. S. Vol. Ill, p. 


fovea remains as a dark spot in the ultra-violet rays of the 
spectrum ; and the more strikingly dark the more the rods 
in the neighborhood have become fluorescent (p. 100). On 
the other hand, Prof. Konig pointed out to me that even if 
vision should be wholly wanting in the fovea of a totally 
color-blind individual, it would hardly be possible to detect 
it, for he would unquestionably have acquired the habit by 
avoiding the use of this spot. This suggestion was, there- 
fore, not immediately carried out. But it was arranged 
that I should take for the subject of my investigation for the 
summer a re-determination of the threshold of sensation for 
different parts of the retina and for different kinds of mono- 
chromatic light. A plan of work was built up in two of the 
dark rooms of the laboratory, and I have to express my 
gratitude to Prof. Konig for his untiring patience in assist- 
ing me to overcome the difficulties which one after another 
presented themselves. 1 The preliminary observations for 
eliminating the sources of error consumed some time, and I 
then made a first determination of the variation in the inten- 
sity of light necessary in order to be just perceptible, or of 
its inversion the sensitiveness of the eye to faint impres- 
sions at different distances from the fovea. I even drew 
the curves, and found them to present a maximum at a dis- 
tance of about 25, at which point the sensitiveness of the 
eye is about four times as great as at the fovea, while at a 
distance of 50 the sensitiveness is still about twice as great as 
at the fovea. E. Pick found the maximum to be at about 15, 
but that was without making correction for the diminished 
area of the pupil of the eye when light enters it very much 
from the side. The shape of the curves is not noticeably 
different for different parts of the spectrum. These curves 
are a representation of the diminished sensitiveness in the 
region of the fovea, which has long been known, and which 
has been especially forced upon the attention of astronomers 
when looking for faint stars with the naked eye. I had been 
in the end for several weeks at work in my dark room for 
the express purpose of finding that the fovea is blind to im- 
pressions so faint as those with which I was occupied, before 

1 The full results of this investigation will be published later. 


I found it; although, after it has once been seen, it seems 
incredible that it can ever have been overlooked. It finally 
dawned upon me not that the bright point directly looked 
at was invisible but that by giving what I can only describe 
as a certain curious twist to the eye, a certain bright point 
could be caused to disappear. 1 

The reason that the normal night-blindness of the 
fovea,' as this insensitiveness to the faint-light sensation 
may best be called, has been completely overlooked by all 
other observers, and also by E. Pick and by Kirschmann, I 
who have made a special investigation of the threshold of 
sensation for different parts of the retina, is very plain : the 
unconscious ego, which takes so large a part in regulating 
the action of even the voluntary muscles, is well aware of 
this blindness, and takes pains that an image of a small 
object shall almost never fall upon this spot. In a faint 
light, to look at, which is usually a phrase of two-fold signifi- 
cance, meaning, namely, to turn the eye in such a way that 
its power of seeing is a maximum ; and also to turn the eye 
so that the image of the object looked at falls on the fovea, 
has now the two elements of its significance disjoined ; 
when vision is at a maximum (or when it is possible at all), 
it is necessary that the image should fall a little to one side 
of the fovea, and that is the motion with which the subject- 
ive feeling of fixation is associated. Not only did the faint 
object which I was engaged in observing disappear, but also 
the two (much brighter) spots of phosphorescent paste 
(which are used in order to secure a fixation-point halfway 
between them) could be made to completely vanish by 
1 looking at ' them, in the new sense of that phrase. This 
phosphorescent matter gives a spectrum which is almost 
wholly blue. 

Having convinced myself of the existence of this faint- 
light foveal blindness, it was necessary to devise a method 
by which the total blindness of the fovea of the totally color- 

1 This motion of the eye can be facilitated if one brings in the aid of a strong 
desire not to see the point. This would seem to show that the knowledge of the exist- 
ence of this blind spot, while almost wholly below the level of consciousness, is yet not 
altogether withdrawn from an interaction with the conscious content of the organism. 


blind patient, who was soon to return to Prof. Konig's labor- 
atory, could be demonstrated. It was not permitted to 
subject his eyes to any strain, and it was not probable that a 
rather feeble boy of thirteen could easily learn to execute a 
motion which had hitherto been absolutely avoided, not only 
by him but by all the rest of the world; and which, besides, 
there was no possibility of describing to him. But it natu- 
rally suggested itself to me very soon that it would only be 
necessary to give him a group of closely contiguous isolated 
bright points to look at, and that chance would see to it that 
one or the other of them should now and then fall into the 
dark hole of his fovea. The same device has proved effect- 
ive for exhibiting the faint-light blindness to a person who 
has not yet learned to execute the motion of the eye neces- 
sary to cause a single spot to disappear. Prof. Konig at 
once made use of this method to show that even the most 
intense blue that could be thrown into the field of his spec- 
tro-photometer, by the light of the oxyhydrogen blow-pipe, 
is insufficient to cause any sensation whatever in the fovea. 
No difficulty was experienced in demonstrating the total 
blindness of the totally color-blind boy in this spot, although 
it was quite impossible to get him to experience the invisi- 
bility of a single bright point when only one was in the 
field. This individual had a definite spot at one side of the 
fovea, which he constantly made use of as a fixation-spot; 
the nystagmus, which is a common accompaniment of total 
color-blindness, is readily explained as the expression of 
there being no such favored substitution fovea. The re- 
markable diminution of visual acuity on the part of such 
patients, which has not hitherto been understood, is seen to 
be very natural when it is known that their fovea is not in a 
condition to perform its function. Prof. Konig proceeded 
at once to make a series of color-equations in the fovea a 
work of extreme difficulty from which it appears that the 
condition, which extends over an area of from 55' to 70', is 
that of a typical blue-blindness. 

To the facts already described, Prof. Konig adds a con- 
tribution recently made by himself and Dr. Zumft, 1 by which 

1 Ueber die lichtempfindliche Schicht in der Netzhaut des Menschlichen Auges. 
Sitzungsberichte d. Akad. d. Wissench. zu Berlin, 24 Mai, 1894. 


they would seem to have shown that light of different colors 
is perceived in different layers of the retina, and blue dis- 
tinctly in front of green, yellow and red. The method con- 
sists in throwing two shadows of a blood-vessel upon the 
back of the retina, by means of two holes in a card, which is- 
constantly moved to and fro in the front focal plane of the 
eye. The distance apart of the two shadows they were able 
to measure, and they found it to be different for differently 
colored homogeneous light; and the calculated distance of 
the blood-vessel from the layer of retina which is affected by 
the light, they found to be, for several portions of the spec- 
trum examined: 

X 670 O-44 mm. 

59 -44 

535 0-41 

486 0.38 

434 0.36 

White, 0.41 

Prof. Konig interprets this to mean that the space be- 
tween the layer in which blue is perceived, and that in 
which red is perceived, is greater than the thickness of the 
end members of the rods and cones, and hence that one 
must infer that the pigment epithelium also is a layer sensi- 
tive to light. It would seem, however, that there must be 
something about these experiments the meaning of which is 
not yet wholly cleared up, for the length of the outer mem- 
ber of a rod is only .025 to .03 mm., and that of an epithe- 
lium cell is only about half as much again. They do not, 
therefore, together form a layer of sufficient thickness to 
take in the difference of .08 mm., which the observations re- 
quire. The experiment, therefore, proves too much. Again, 
Prof. Konig's interpretation of the facts here enumerated, as 
meaning that the visual yellow is the source of the sensation 
of blue ; that green, yellow and red are all perceived in the 
pigment-epithelium, and that the cones are merely lenses for 
concentrating light upon the epithelium cells, makes no pro- 
vision for the nerve-conduction of any effect of light in the 
epithelium. In the fovea there would be absolutely no- 
means of such conduction except by way of the cones, and 


it is difficult to conceive that organs which are performing 
the part of lenses should also be able to function as con- 
ductors. 1 Again, the recent brilliant work of Ramon y 
Cayal and others on the minute anatomy of the retina dis- 
closes such close similarity (together with a perfectly defin- 
ite difference) between the rods and the cones, as regards 
structure and connections, as to make it very unnatural to 
assign to them functions of a widely different nature. Prof. 
Konig says (p. 4) that the results here communicated 
"are in contradiction (i) with the theories of Hering and 
Ebbinghaus, according to which a single substance forms 
the basis of the red and green sensations on the one hand, 
and of the blue and yellow sensations on the other hand ; 
and (2) with the theories of Bonders, Wundt and Franklin, 
according to which all colors are perceived in a single sub- 
stance." It is true that all these theories would be rather 
hard hit by these results, if the results themselves were not 
involved in some obscurity. As it is, however, it may per- 
haps be safe to wait until the discrepancies pointed out have 
been, to some extent at least, cleared up. 

There is yet one more recent contribution from Konig's 
laboratory which has an important bearing upon the new 
facts already mentioned. Brodhun, and more recently 
Tonn, have shown that the Purkinje phenomenon consists in 
a change in the blue constituent of white light the red and 
green remaining unchanged ; this would seem to indicate 
that the increased amount of coloring matter in the rods, as 
the intensity of light begins to diminish, furnishes a means 
for an increased amount of absorption, and would seem to 
point, it must be confessed, to the rods as the seat, at least 
in part, of the sensation of blue. 

Farther elements of the theory of light-sensation now 
advocated by Prof. Konig are these : 

1 Prof. Gad (whose paper has reached me since writing the above) makes the far- 
ther criticism that only the first surface of the pigment-cells would be available, because 
light cannot pass through even a very thin layer of the fuscine which gives them their 
dark color. But he apparently forgets that, under an ordinary degree of illumination, 'the 
pigment grains are nearly all heaped up between the visual elements, and that the body 
of the pigment cell is left almost free from them. (Der Energieumsatz in der Retina. 
Separat-Abzug aus Arch. f. Anat. u. Phys., 1894.) 


1. The visual purple is the photo-chemical substance 
whose decomposition causes the faint light sensation. That 
sensation is in reality blue, although we are not aware of it. 

2. The visual yellow is the source of the sensation of blue 
at ordinary intensities. 

3. The white, and also all shades of grey, of an ordinary 
illumination, are of a very different origin from (a) the sensa- 
tion of grey in a faint light, (b) the sensation of the totally 
color-blind, (c) the sensation of the normal eye in the pe- 
riphery ; they are (as in the original Young-Helmholtz 
theory) a synthesis in 'judgment' of the sensations red, 
green and blue. 

As regards Prof. Konig's interpretation of the new facts, 
the following observations remain to be made : 

(a). There is no occasion for assuming that the visual 
purple is, by its decomposition, the source of the sensation. 
All that is forced upon us is that absorption by the visual 
purple acts as a means of re-inforcement at a time when light 
would be too feeble to perform its function without the pres- 
ence of a special agent for absorbing it. That the visual 
purple and the visual yellow should, by their decomposition, 
furnish the same sensation (blue) is very hard to believe, in 
view of the fact that the visual yellow is, beyond all ques- 
tion, itself one of the decomposition products of the visual 
purple, and that their decomposition products can therefore 
not possibly be the same. 

(b). Becker's case of congenital monocular total color- 
blindness, many cases of acquired monocular total color- 
blindness, and the consciousness of every individual in a 
faint light, all speak against the hypothesis that blue, and 
not grey, is perceived under those circumstances; still 
more, the perfect conviction which one has that a bit of 
colored paper whose image is removed to the periphery of 
the eye fades into a grey which is indistinguishable from the 
grey of direct vision. 

(c). There is no doubt whatever that the eye has a per- 
fectly unimpaired vision for the whole length of the spectrum 
when the light is so strong that the rod-yellow has been 
completely bleached out. That can, therefore, not be the 


photo-chemical substance for blue. The eyes of the totally 
color-blind undergo adaptation. 1 The rod-purple in their 
eyes, therefore, suffers changes in its quantity exactly as we 
should expect it to do from what we know of the substance 
elsewhere. There is, therefore, every reason to believe that 
it is, like all rod-purple which we have ever examined objec- 
tively, completely bleached out in a bright light, and hence 
that it is not the sensation-producing substance, but merely 
a means of re-inforcement for waning light. 

(d). The fact that the adaptation-substance is purple in 
color serves a useful purpose. The most common faint 
light of nature is the faint light of dense forests, which is 
green. The rod-pigment is therefore especially adapted to 
the absorption of the only light which penetrates them. 
How completely the light at the bottom of forest trees has 
been sifted of the light which their leaves absorb has been 
shown quite recently by an investigation into the growth (or 
rather non-growth) of nearly all ground plants after the 
foliage has fully come out in the late spring. 2 

(e). Almost the only function of the extreme peri- 
phery of the eye is the detection of motion, that is, the 
detection of changes in the distribution of light and shade. 
The changes in the rod-pigment bring about a constant 
complete adaptation to the existing pattern of light and 
shade, build up a counter-pattern, so to speak, upon the 
surface of the retina, and only a new distribution of light 
(*'. e., the entrance of an enemy upon the field) causes any 
sensation. This function of the periphery is facilitated by 
the fact, made out by Ramon y Cayal, that there are numer- 
ous large, horizontal connecting cells which must play the 
part of re-inforcing a sensation by spreading it over a wide 
area, at the same time that they diminish the sharpness of its 
localization ; the indistinctness of vision in the periphery has 

1 Just before leaving Berlin in September I made a journey to the place where the 
color-blind boy above referred to was spending the summer, in order to determine this 
point. Hering mentions that his case could see better in a dark room than those 
having normal eyes, but he does not say whether his vision improved with time. 
( Untersuc hung eines total Farbenblinden. Pfl. Arch. Bd. 54 S. 10.) 

* Klebs : Einfluss des Lichtes auf die Fortpftanzung der Gewachse. Biol. Cen- 
tralbl. XIII, 641. 


long been known to be much greater than the indistinctness 
of the image formed there would account for. 

(/). If the rod-pigment, in both of its stages, is merely a 
reinforcement agent, then all theories of light-sensation (ex- 
cept, indeed, that of Ebbinghaus, which loses whatever 
plausibleness it may be supposed to have had) may be con- 
sidered to remain very much in the same condition in which 
they were before. 




The third annual meeting of the American Psychological 
Association was held at Princeton College, Princeton, N. J., 
on Dec. 27 and 28, 1894. Prof. William James, President 
of the Association, presided over the sessions, which lasted 
from 10.30 A. M. on Dec. 27 to 4.30 P. M. on Dec. 28. Presi- 
dent Patton, of Princeton College, made an address of wel- 
come on Thursday afternoon, and entertained the members 
of the Association in the evening, after the address of the 
President of the Association. Abstracts of the papers read 
at the meeting are subjoined. Papers by Prof. Starr and 
Prof. Hume were presented in the absence of their authors, 
and papers offered by Prof. Jastrow, Prof. Delabarre, Prof. 
Titchener, Mr. Pierce and Dr. Witmer were not read. 

The members in attendance were : Alexander, Baldwin, 
Cattell, Chrysostom, Farrand, Hyslop, Franklin, James, 
Ladd, MacDonald, Marshall, Mead, Mezes, Mills, Miller, 
Newbold, Ormond, Pace, Royce, Sanford, Strong, Warren 
twenty-two in all. In addition, the sessions were well 
attended by professors and advanced students from the dif- 
ferent universities and colleges. 

The following nominations for membership were made 
by the council, and the elections were made by the Associa- 
tion : 

Prof. Archibald Alexander, New York. 

Dr. John Bigham, University of Michigan. 

Prof. Charles L. Dana, Bellevue Medical College. 



Mr. E. A. Kirkpatrick, 
Dr. A. Kirschmann, 
Prof. S. E. Mezes, 
Mr. W. T. Shaw, 
Prof. James Seth, 
Prof. Paul Shorey, 
Prof. H. M. Stanley, 
Miss M. Washburn, 

Winona, Minn. 
University of Toronto. 
University of Texas. 
Wesleyan University. 
Brown University. 
University of Chicago. 
Lake Forest University. 
Wells College. 

A constitution was adopted, as follows : 


ART. I. Object. The object of the Association is the 
advancement of Psychology as a science. Those are eligi- 
ble for membership who are engaged in this work. 

ART. II. The Council. A Council shall be elected from 
the members of the Association as an executive. The Coun- 
cil shall consist of six members, two being elected annually 
for a term of three years. The President shall be ex-officia 
a member of the Council. The Council shall nominate officers 
for the Association, shall nominate new members, and shall 
make other recommendations concerning the conduct of 
the Association. The resolutions of the Council shall be 
brought before the Association and decided by a majority 

ART. III. Officers. There shall be annually nominated 
by the Council and elected by the Association a President, 
a Secretary, and a Treasurer, who shall perform the usual 
duties of these officers. 

ART. IV. Annual Subscription. The annual subscription 
shall be $3, in advance. Non-payment of dues for two con- 
secutive years shall be considered as equivalent to resigna- 
tion from the Association. 

ART. V. Executive Committee. The President, the Sec- 
retary, and a member from the place where the meeting is 
held, shall be a committee to make necessary arrangements 
for the annual meeting. 


ART. VI. Proceedings. Such proceedings shall be printed 
by the Secretary as the Association may direct. 

ART. VII. Amendments. Amendments to the Constitu- 
tion must be adopted by a majority vote at two consecutive 
annual meetings. 

As prescribed by the Constitution, a Council was elected 
as follows : 

Term expiring 1897: 

Prof. G. T. Ladd, Yale University. 

Prof. J. McKeen Cattell, Columbia College. 

Term expiring 1896: 

Prof. J. Mark Baldwin, Princeton College. 
Prof. William James, Harvard University. 

Term expiring 1895 : 

Prof. John Dewey, University of Chicago. 

Prof. G. S. Fullerton, University of Pennsylvania. 

Prof. J. McKeen Cattell was elected President and Prof. 
E. C. Sanford Secretary and Treasurer for the coming year. 

An invitation was received from the American Society of 
Naturalists, inviting the Association to affiliate with it. The 
question was referred to the Council, with power to act. 
Invitations were received for the meeting of 1895 from 
Harvard University and the University of Chicago. The 
decision as to place of meeting was left with the Council, 
with the recommendation that the convention meet, if possi- 
ble, at the same time and place as the Society of Naturalists. 
It was resolved that the minutes should be printed in such 
journals as were prepared to print them in full. 

The report of the Treasurer is as follows : 
Receipts : 

Balance on hand, $69.50 

2 dues, 1893, 6.00 

38 dues, 1894, 114.00 

Sales of Proceedings, . . ... ^o 



Expenditures : 

Printing Proceedings for 1893, as per 

Messrs. Macmillan & Co.'s voucher, 

Postage, expressage and stationery, . 


Balance on hand, $127.17 

The account was audited by the Council and approved. 


Secretary, 1894.. 


(i.) The Knowing of Things Together. Address by the Presi- 
dent, Prof. WILLIAM JAMES, Harvard University. 

The synthetic unity of consciousness is one of the great 
dividing questions in the philosophy of mind. We know 
things singly through as many distinct mental states. But 
on another occasion we may know the same things together 
through one state. The problem is as to the relation of the 
previous many states to the later one state. It will not do 
to make the mere statement of this problem incidentally in- 
volve a particular solution, as we should if we formulated 
the fact to be explained as the combination of many states of 
mind into one. The fact presents itself, in the first instance, 
as the knowing of many things together, and it is in those terms 
that the solution must be approached. 

In the first place, what is knowing? I. Conceptual know- 
ing is an external relation between a state of mind and 
remote objects. If the state of mind, through a context of 
associates which the world supplies, leads to the objects 
smoothly and terminates there, we say it knows them. 2. 
Intuitive knowing is the identity of what, taken in one world- 
context, we call mental content and in another object. In 
neither i nor 2 is there involved any mysterious self-trans- 
cendency or presence in absence. 3. This mystery does, 
however, seem involved in the relation between the parts of a 
mental content itself. In the minimum real state of conscious- 
ness, that of the passing moment, past and present are known 


at once. In desire, memory, etc., earlier and later elements 
are directly felt to call for or fulfil each other, and without 
this sense of mutuality in their parts, such states do not 
exist. Here is presence in absence ; here knowing together ; 
here the original prototype of what we mean by knowledge. 
This ultimate synthetic nature of the smallest real phenom- 
enon of consciousness can neither be explained nor circum- 

We can only trace the particular conditions by which 
particular contents come thus to figure with all their parts 
at once in consciousness. Several attempts were then briefly 
passed in review. Mere synchronical sense-impression is 
not a sufficient condition. An additional inner event is re- 
quired. The event has been described : physiologically as i) 
'attention;' as 2) ideational processes added to the sensorial 
processes, the latter giving unity, the former manyness ; as 
3) motor synergy of processes ; psychologically as 4) the 
thinking of relations between the parts of the content-object; 
as 5) the relating of each part to the self ; spiritually as 6) an 
act of the soul; transcendentally as 7) the diminution (by 
unknown causes, possibly physiological) of the obstruction 
or limitation which the organism imposes on the natural 
knowing-of-all-things-together by an Absolute Mind. For 
transcendentalism the problem is, * How are things known 
separately at all ? ' 

The speaker dealt with these opinions critically, not 
espousing either one himself. He concluded by abandoning 
the attempt made in his Principles of Psychology to formu- 
late mental states as integers, and to refer all plurality to the 
objects known by them. Practically, the metaphysical view 
cannot be excluded from psychology-books. ' Contents' have 
parts, because in intuitive knowledge contents and objects 
are identical; and Psychology, even as a 'natural science,' 
will find it easier to solve her problem of tracing the condi- 
tions that determine what objects shall be known together, 
by speaking of ' contents ' as complex unities. 

[The address is printed in full in the Psychological Review 
for March, 1895.] 


(2.) Minor Studies, and Notes on New Apparatus. By Dr. 
E. C. SANFORD, Clark University. 

The four papers reported were on the following topics : 
(i) Comparative Observations on the Indirect Color Range 
of Children, Adults, and Adults Trained in Color, by Geo.. 
W. A. Luckey. (This study was made in the Psychological 
Laboratory of the Leland Stanford, Jr., University); (2) A 
Study of Individual Psychology, by Miss Caroline Miles; 
(3) The Memory-span and Attention, by Dr. Arthur H. 
Daniels; (4) On the Least Observable Interval between 
Stimuli addressed to Disparate Senses and to Different Or- 
gans of the same Sense, by Miss Alice J. Hamlin ; (5) Notes. 
on the Binocular Stroboscope, a Model of the Hemispheri- 
cal Field of Regard, and Diagrams for an Optical Illusion, 
by E. C. Sanford. [All of these papers are published in 
full in the American Journal of Psychology, Vol. VI., No. 4, 
Jan., 1895.] 

(3.) The Psychic Development of Young Animals and its Physi- 
cal Correlation. By T. WESLEY MILLS, Professor of 
Physiology in McGill University, Montreal. 

As the comparative method, embryology and the doc- 
trine of organic evolution have revolutionized biology, it 
must be expected that they or their analogies will at least 
greatly modify modern psychology. To learn how and when 
psychic processes originate is a long step towards understand- 
ing them ; and as these processes in animals lower in the 
scale than man are presumably simple, it is desirable that 
they be studied both in the mature animal and in the young 
developing one. Accordingly the writer has for some years 
been engaged in this task, and has now made fairly complete 
researches on the psychic development of the dog, cat, rab- 
bit, guinea-pig, etc. 

An attempt has been made to keep a record in the form 
of a diary, not only of psychic, but of contemporaneous phy- 
sical changes. A special series of experiments has been 
made on the brains of young animals, with a view of deter- 
mining when cortical localization is established, in what 
order, etc. This work is not yet complete. Incidentally, 


the subject of localization in the mature animal has been in- 
vestigated, and some generally accepted conclusions found 
unreliable, as well as others confirmed. 

(4.) On the Distribution of Exceptional Ability. By Professor 
J. McKEEN CATTELL, Columbia College. 

A study of the mental traits and of the works of great 
men forms an interesting chapter in psychology ; and while 
we are undertaking to make psychology an exact science, it 
is an advantage to secure quantitative results. When anec- 
dotes are published telling us that certain great men have 
inherited or bequeathed their talents, were insane, immoral,, 
precocious, versatile or the like, it is of interest; but we 
sometimes imagine that other examples might be quoted 
with opposite results, or similar traits found in ordinary 

We need to be able to affirm that a man, who has accom- 
plished work making him eminent, is more likely to be in- 
sane (according to a proper definition of insanity) than the 
average man, in a given ratio ; and that this ratio varies in 
such and such a way for men whose work or character was 
of a given definable sort. And so in all cases quantitative 
results should be secured. We should be able to say that a 
man who is a great painter is just so much more likely to be 
a great poet as well, than is a great soldier, or than, is the 
average man. 

The first requirement for such a study is a list of great 
men secured by an objective method. The 1000 most emi- 
nent men have been selected by collating the space given to 
them in different biographical dictionaries and encyclopae- 
dias. The method secures impartiality and an assignable 
degree of accuracy, it being possible to give a probable 
error to each man. The list, of course, only gives a man!s 
place in contemporary interest, but this would agree closely 
with the average verdict of the best judges as to his import- 
ance in history. The exact composition of the list is not 
indeed a matter of much importance for the end in view, 
an objectively selected list of great men being what is 


The list was shown at the meeting, curves were exhib- 
ited demonstrating the distribution in time and race of the 
1000 men, and attention was called to some facts brought 
out by the curves. 

(5.) Sensibility to Pain by Pressure in the Hands of Individuals 
of Different Classes, Sexes and Nationalities. By Dr. 
ARTHUR MACDONALD, Bureau of Education, Wash- 

Tabular Statement of Results. 




No. requir- 
ing more 
pressure in 

in kilos. 


No. requir- 
ing m ore 
pressure in 



r. h. 

1. h. 











American profes- 

sional men, . . 









American business 

men .... 



Q fy -, 



87 7* 



American women, 


/ / 3 

non-labor'g class 









English profession- 

al men, .... 









English women, 

non-labor'g class 









"rerman profession- 

al men 









Salvation Army 

members, Lon- 



73 2? 

Q ie 



7 62 


Slum men in Chap- 

/ j* * j 

y* * D 

j ^^ 

el Rouge, Paris. 









Boston Army of the 

unemployed, . . 









Women in ' ' Mai- 

sons de Tol- 

ance," Paris, . . 









Epileptic patients, 

laboring people. 









Ddd ones, men, in 










Odd ones, men, in 

different coun- 








tries, .... 



VI en in general, . 
Women in general 










The experiments reported were made incidentally upon 
different classes of people. Quite a number of university 
specialists interested in the subject were experimented upon. 


The middle of the palmar fossa was chosen, and Professor 
Cattell's Algometer was employed. 

Should these results prove to be generally true by ex- 
periments on larger numbers of people, the following state- 
ments would be probable : The majority of people are more 
sensitive to pain in their left hand (only exception is No. 10, 
cols. 4 and 7). 

Women are more sensitive to pain than men (Nos. 14 and 
15, cols. 6 and 9). Exceptions are: comp. Nos. 4 and 5, 
cols. 6 and 9. It does not necessarily follow that women 
cannot endure more pain than men. 

American professional men are more sensitive to pain 
than American business men (comp. Nos. I and 2, cols. 6 
and 9) ; and also than English or German professional men 
(comp. Nos. i, 4 and 6, cols. 6 and 9). 

The laboring classes are much less sensitive to pain than 
the non-laboring classes (comp. Nos. i, 2 and 9, cols. 6 and 9). 

The women of the lower classes are much less sensitive 
to pain than those of the better classes (comp. Nos. 3, 5 and 
10, cols. 6 and 9). In general, the more developed the ner- 
vous system, the more sensitive it is to pain. 

Remark. While the thickness of tissue on the hand has 
some influence, it has by no means so much as one might 
suppose, a priori ; for many with thin hands require much 
pressure (Nos. 5 and 10, cols. 6 and 9). 

(6). The Freedom of the Will. By BROTHER CHRYSOSTOM, 
Manhattan College, New York. 

The positive results of the latest studies of the will, 
through introspection and experiment, are in striking accord 
with the teachings of the Schoolmen. The appetencies of 
Aristotle have been replaced by conation, which, if considered 
in the form of attention, is either unequivocally conditioned, 
and then corresponds to the sensitive appetition of scholastic 
philosophy, or is equivocally conditioned, and then does not 
essentially differ from the volition of earlier philosophers. 
But since equivocally conditioned attention may include 
among the objects attended to even the attending subject, it 
must be a spiritual action, for matter is incapable of such 


reflexive process. In other words, the attending mind is a 
rational soul. In this light apperception may be characterized 
as the distinctive quality of conation. But apperception 
supposes at least such intellective action as is contained in 
conception, and this in turn supposes sensation ; and thus a 
point of contact is made with Miinsterberg's theory. 

Neither a purely autogenetic nor a purely heterogenetic 
theory of will accounts for all the facts. For conation is not 
a mere combination of sensations, nor a resultant of affection 
and sensation, nor does it consist in affection alone. Again 
peripheral excitation fails to account for the active element 
of conation, while exclusively central excitation overlooks 
external influence. We must then adopt a theory midway 
between the two extremes. Wundt, therefore, must be held 
to state rather the physiological correlate than the psychical 

The chief difficulty as to the freedom of the will is found 
in its connection with the law of causality, which law, how- 
ever, belongs to the domain of metaphysics, only indeter- 
minism coming within the limits of psychology. Cause 
essentially connotes the inflowing of the agent upon some 
subject. But free and uncaused are not synonyms. All 
action of the will is voluntary, yet not all its action is free. 
For although the presentation of pleasurable or painful ob- 
jects to the will, i. e., the motives, together with the agent's 
temperament and general subjective condition determine the 
spontaneous impulse of his will, yet it is a fact of conscious 
experience that he often can and does put forth at the same 
time an anti-impulsive effort. Only actions made under these 
conditions are rightly called free, and they imply essentially 
the power to will or not to will. 

Yet the law of causality, even in that narrower meaning 
which obtains in the physical sciences, also applies to free 
.actions in the mass, for we can determine with more or less 
probability what men taken generally will do under given 
circumstances. In conclusion, Wundt's assertion that a free 
act is necessarily an uncaused one, is virtually an admission 
that the will is superior to material force, and is therefore 


(7). The Consciousness of Identity and So-called Double Con- 
sciousness. By Professor GEORGE T. LADD, Yale 

The questions in debate concerning the consciousness of 
identity and so-called double consciousness cannot be in- 
telligently discussed without a critical examination of the 
conceptions involved. What then do we mean when we 
speak of a thing, or a mind, as remaining < identical' or self- 
same, through various changes of state? To uncritical 
thought it doubtless seems as though some unchanging 
' core ' of reality belonged to every being of which we feel 
ourselves entitled to speak in this way. But philosophi- 
cal criticism seems rather to assure us only of the propo- 
sition : The real identity of anything consists in this, that its 
self-activity manifests itself, in all its different relations to other 
things as conforming to law, or to some immanent idea. 

From this it follows that change, in itself, is not incon- 
sistent with identity being maintained. On the contrary, 
it is the very character of the actual changes observed or 
inferred which leads either to the affirmation or to the denial 
of identity. This principle may be applied to whatever is 
popularly called a thing, and also to those hypothetical ele- 
ments of all material things, the so-called atoms. 

When we turn to consider the peculiar identity of mind, 
we find that the affirmation of such identity can never be 
taken as a denial of change. Indeed, the very real being of 
rnind seems dependent upon change, in the form, namely, 
of successive states of consciousness. So that the variety 
and greatness of the changes experienced may heighten 
rather than diminish the reality and validity of the conscious- 
ness of identity, properly described and understood. 

Now if we inquire in what consists this conscious identity, 
we see that it is, and can be, nothing but that which is 
given to consciousness, in all states of self-consciousness, of 
recognitive memory, and of reflective thinking about the 
Self. To have these states of consciousness is to- be con- 
scious of being identical and self-same. And degrees of the 
^consciousness .of identity, as it were, are connected neces- 
sarily with all ral mental development. 


In accordance with this metaphysical analysis we may 
hopefully, and even confidently, venture upon the attempt to 
account for the phenomena of so-called double consciousness, 
in accordance with certain well-known psychological prin- 
ciples. Of these one may be spoken of as the principle of 
'psychic automatism.' Under this principle we note in 
many of our most familiar experiences such a diremption of 
successive states, or of very complex present states into two- 
fold combinations of elements, as makes the full impression 
of two interacting personalities, rather than of one person. 
Yet very subtle and unrecognized or dimly recognized in- 
fluences of one upon the other, of the Self-conscious Ego 
upon the automaton, or the reverse, may be distinguished by 
psychology. All this is popularly expressed either by say- 
ing, 'I have the automaton,' or the automaton has me;' 
'I am the automaton,' or 'the automaton is not me.' 
Illustrations of all this may be derived from the simpler or 
more complex bodily operations as under the influence of 
semi-conscious states, and in turn influencing them ; from 
many deeds of skill and valor, and even of a seemingly high 
order of intelligence; from the phenomena of artistic and 
religious inspiration, etc. 

Closely akin to this is the most effective working of 
another principle, which we will call that of a < dramatic 
sundering of the Ego.' We can more or less consciously 
and intentionally, or as forced by circumstances, so ' put 
ourselves into' another character as virtually to divide the 
Self into two or more selves, whose appropriate states of 
consciousness either follow in rapid succession or seem to 
occur almost simultaneously. The phenomena of dreams, 
the plays of children, the experience of many actors, the 
phenomena of certain states of inspiration, the imaginative 
genius of certain writers, like Balzac notably, are instances 
in point here. Indeed, the very nature of ethical conscious- 
ness, in its highest form of manifestation, necessarily seems 
to involve such a dramatic sundering of the Ego. In not 
very infrequent cases, three interacting personalities become 
manifest in consciousness. These may be described as the- 


tempter, or bad angel, the good angel, and the Self as the 
'torn one,' between the two. 

In fine, it seems fair to expect that by a further under- 
standing and more extended application of these, and per- 
haps other cognate psychological principles, even the most 
extreme hypnotic cases of so-called double-consciousness 
may finally be explained. 

(8.) A Preliminary Report on a Research into the Psychology of 
Imitation. By Prof. JOSIAH ROYCE, Harvard Uni- 

This report first briefly described a collection of experi- 
ments now under way at the Harvard Psychological Labora- 
tory, and then passed to some reflections, suggested by 
these experiments, relating to the definition of the functions 
to be grouped together under the name of Imitation. As 
the text of the report is to appear in THE PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW, the present summary need not be extended. The 
experiments, which at present are only in their first begin- 
ning, have thus far been confined to the imitation of some- 
what complex series of taps, given by an electric hammer, 
and arranged in rhythms. The subjects of the experiments 
imitate the taps, after hearing each rhythm, through repeat- 
ing the hammer-strokes by means of an electric key. The 
rhythms, as given and as imitated, are recorded on the 
kymograph. The effects of habit, in successive imitations 
of the same rhythm, the influence of speed, and of other 
factors upon success in imitation, are under study. The 
complexity of the rhythms studied in these experiments 
forms one special difference of this enterprise when com- 
pared with other experimental studies of rhythm. For the 
purpose is to study, not the rhythmic consciousness as such, 
but the imitative functions. 

Notes of subjective experiences, taken down during or 
immediately after each experiment by the subjects con- 
cerned, have already given the suggestion for those consid- 
erations concerning the definition of imitation with which 
the major part of the report was taken up. 


(9.) The Classification of Pain. By Prof. CHARLES A. 
STRONG, University of Chicago. 

This paper was a discussion of the current theory that 
pleasure and pain are always given as aspects of a content 
distinct from themselves the feeling-tone, < quale,' or aspect 
theory. It sought to test this theory by considering its 
application to the case of cutaneous pain. 

(1) Neurologically, we know no facts in regard to cuta- 
neous pain which decisively contradict the theory. For 
special pain-nerves are more than doubtful ; and there is a 
symptom of locomotor ataxia, consisting in hyperalgesia to 
heat or cold without hyperalgesia to pressure and even with 
analgesia to pricking and pinching, which seems to prove 
that some pains are distinctively pains of temperature. The 
condition of analgesia, moreover, while it implies distinct 
paths for pain in the spinal cord, may be reconciled with the 
aspect theory by holding that the sensations called forth 
through these paths is a tactile or temperature sensation in 
painful phase. 

(2) But, introspectively, it is impossible in certain cases 
to carry out the analysis for which the aspect theory calls. 
Extreme pressure, heat and cold produce the same sensa- 
tion a sensation not of heat or cold or pressure, but simply 
of pain. This sensation (Schmerz) does not admit of analy- 
sis; it is impossible to separate it into a content and an 
accompanying feeling-tone. But it may call forth an emo- 
tional reaction in the shape of a feeling of the disagreeable 
or intolerable (Unlusf). 

In conclusion, the inference was drawn that pain, being a 
sensation, may be localized and may leave behind images. 

[The paper will be printed in the PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW for May, 1895.] 

(10). A Theory of Emotions from the Physiological Standpoint. 
By Prof. G. H. MEAD, University of Chicago. 

Prof. Dewey having shown that it is possible to make a 
complete teleological statement of the emotions along the 
line of the discharge theory, it is interesting to see how far 
such a statement may be paralleled by a physiological theory. 


This would involve, also, a physiological theory of pleasure 
and pain. As pain can be differentiated from the sensations 
in connection with which it generally appears in conscious- 
ness, as it shows itself under circumstances in which the 
tissue of the end organs or the nerves themselves are affected, 
and as in the diseases in which we find pain as a constant 
concomitant, those parts are affected, which are richly sup- 
plied with blood vessels by means of supporting and nourish- 
ing tissues (Rindfleiscli s inter me didrer Erndhrungsapparaf], 
and as in those diseases which pass usually without pain 
{as in the catarrhs of the various mucous membranes) the 
tissues affected are poorly supplied with such blood vessels, 
and enter into relation with the capillaries generally through 
the lymph, for the purposes of secretion, it becomes at 
least probable that, physiologically, pain may be considered 
as the interference through poisons or violence or otherwise 
with the process of nutrition as carried out in the finer 
arteries and blood vessels. Pleasure must from this stand- 
point be considered as physiologically the normal or rather 
hightened process of nutrition in the organs, and the nerve 
paths which connect these with the central nervous system 
would be probably the sympathetic. 

In the simple instinctive act that lies behind every emo- 
tion, the vaso-motor system is called into action by the 
enlargement of the small blood vessels in the muscles and 
sweat glands. To maintain the blood pressure the finer 
blood vessels in the abdominal tracts are closed by the con- 
strictors of that region, and the action of the heart may also 
be increased by the accelerators. The vaso-motor system 
thus is, in these simpler instinctive acts, in automatic con- 
nection with the senso-motor. The act must commence 
before the flow of blood can take place. It is in con- 
nection with this increased flow of blood that we have to 
assume the emotional tones of consciousness arise according 
to the discharge theory. Within the act it would answer 
only to interest. It is in the preparation for action that we 
find the qualitatively different emotional tones, and here we 
find increased flow of blood before the act. We find also 
what we may term symbolic stimuli, which tend to arouse 


the vaso-motor processes that are originally called out only 
by the instinctive acts. These stimuli in the form in which 
we can study them, seem to be more or less rhythmical repe- 
titions of those moments in the act itself which call forth 
especially the vaso-motor response. In this form they are 
recognized as aesthetic stimuli, and may be best studied in 
the war and love dances. It is under the influence of stimuli 
of this general character that the emotional states and their 
physiological parallels arise. The teleology of these states 
is that of giving the organism an evaluation of the act before 
the coordination that leads to the particular reaction has 
been completed. 

(n). Desire as the Essence of Pleasure and Pain. By Dr. 
D. S. MILLER, Bryn Mawr College. 

Pleasure and pain, in the discussion now going forward 
as to their classification and physical basis, are commonly 
treated as among our passive sensory experiences; at all 
events, it would seem to most psychologists a somewhat 
stupid paradox to assert that they were in any sense motor 
phenomena. Yet there is solid ground for holding this 
paradox; for maintaining, at least, that pleasantness (the 
quality which, along with their specific differences of char- 
acter, marks all so-called pleasures) and painfulness (the 
quality which, along with their specific differences of char- 
acter, marks all so-called pains) are essentially motor facts. 
A pain is an intolerable feeling ; different as they are among 
themselves, all pains have this, at least, in common, that 
they are intolerable. No other feeling is intolerable ; if it 
were we should call it a pain. It would, then, not be easy 
to refute the proposition that painfulness is intolerableness ; 
that so-called pains have no other common class-attribute. 
Now intolerableness is the quality of uniformly provoking a 
certain bodily disquietude or rebellion, issuing, where the 
nature of the case permits, in an attempt to escape from the 
offending irritant. And this is a motor phenomenon. The 
various disagreeables (a term with which 'pains' in my mean- 
ing is convertible) a needle-prick, a headache, a burn, the 
numb internal ache of cold hands, the taste of quinine,, the 


smell of assafoetida, the scratching of a slate-pencil, 'gnaw- 
ing pains,' 'shooting pains/ muscular fatigue, disappoint- 
ment, humiliation these have no such intrinsic resemblance 
in sensational complexion as we find among different sights 
or sounds between the members of the class of visual, or of 
the class of auditory sensations; they are similar only in the 
extrinsic fact that they all alike are accompanied by a 
bodily reaction some flinching or shuddering or convulsion, 
some restiveness or inner tension which tends then and 
afterwards to pass into movements of avoidance, escape or 
repulse. Now these movements and the tendencies to them 
are what we know as aversion in its various forms and 

If painfulness is intolerableness, pleasantness, on similar 
grounds, is the quality of being welcome. The bodily re- 
action of gusto is as characteristic, though not so obtrusive 
as that of intolerance ; and it tends to pass into movements 
of retention or procurement. These movements and the 
tendencies to them are what we know as desire in its various 
forms and degrees. 

(12.) Pleasure and Pain Defined. By Prof. SIDNEY E. MEZES, 
University of Texas. 

It is necessary to find some fact or group of facts that is 
present whenever we experience pleasure and absent when- 
ever we do not, and another fact or group of facts present 
and absent with pain. The frequent confusion of unpleas- 
ants with pains is very misleading. Unpleasants are of 
three kinds: memories and expectations, sensational un- 
pleasants that are not pains bitter tastes, e. g. and sensa- 
tional unpleasants that are pains a toothache, e. g. We 
have here to define pleasure and the unpleasant. Attempts 
have been made to define pleasure-pains as sensations, as 
emotions, and as making up the genus of which sensations 
and emotions are two species. The fact that there is evi- 
dence for each of the first two theories shows that neither 
is exhaustive and competent. Besides the existence of pleas- 
ant and unpleasant memories, expectations and fancies inval- 
idates all three. Many hold that pleasure-pains are ultimate 


ideas, simple and undefinable, like colors. There are strong 
positive objections to this theory, but negatively, and for 
our purposes, it suffices that this theory is a last resort, and. 
that its supporters must overthrow all other theories before 
legitimately claiming it as established. This theory is valu- 
able and true in so far as it points out that neither pleasures, 
as a whole nor unpleasants as a whole have any properties, 
in common. It overlooks the possibility that there may be 
something invariably co-present with pleasures and some- 
other invariably co-present with pains ; and that these two* 
may be the signs to us of the presence of pleasures and 
pains, what induces us to call a state pleasant or unpleas- 
ant. Now Plato, Aristotle, Hobbes, Kant, and Schopen- 
hauer agree that harmony or good adjustment is the mark 
of pleasure, ill-adjustment that of pain. Not all these wri- 
ters point out the terms between which the adjustment is to- 
obtain, but recently Wundt and Ward have held that the 
adjustment is of attention to its object. This immediately 
plausible suggestion of attention and adjustment must be 
examined. Clearly what is not attended to is indifferent 
since uninteresting. Further immediate attention to pleas- 
ures is not the same as that to pains : the former is easy and 
natural, the latter enforced and obstructed. Again derived 
attention, always to unpleasants, is invariably obstructed by 
the more pleasant rivals to attention also present. May 
it not be that attention without obstruction is the mark of 
pleasure, attention with obstruction that of pain? The evi- 
dence for this view may be thus suggested : All states of 
intensely concentrated attention are pleasant, hard thinking, 
hard play, strenuous work; all states of internal conflict- 
hesitation, practical puzzle, co-present irreconcilable im- 
pulses, morbidly insistent ideas, etc. are unpleasant; and 
further physical pains, owing to their great intensity, rever- 
berate widely and naturally set up mutually obstructive 
reflexes. The paper appears in the Philos. Rev., Jan., 1895. 

(13.) Emotions versus Pleasure -Pain. By Mr. HENRY RUT- 

Mr. Marshall reviewed his < genetic ' argument in rela- 
tion to the Emotions, emphasizing the contention that the 


typical Emotions are named because (i) they correspond to 
relatively fixed relations between the physical elements 
reacting, and because (2) these reactions are immediate. 
Failure of these two conditions can be traced where ' in- 
stinct feelings ' have no emotional names. Emotions are in 
their nature irregular in recurrence, and to be of value must 
be forceful in reaction ; hence Emotions are not usually lost 
to consciousness as many * instinct feelings ' are, although, 
if these Emotions become rhythmical and weak, they act as 
other states do in relation to fixity of habit. Pleasure and 
pain relate to organic, while Emotions relate to individual or 
racial, effectiveness or ineffectiveness ; therefore their gene- 
sis cannot be considered to have been coincident in time, nor 
to be of the same type. 

The identification of Emotion and Pleasure-Pain in * Feel- 
ing ' is dependent upon the validity of the tripartite division 
of mind ; which is upheld by metaplvysical postulation but 
not by psychological evidence. Prof. Croom Robertson 
argued that the exhaustive categories, The True, The Good, 
The Beautiful, themselves proved the validity of the divis- 
ion. But the existence of the division is explicable in quite 
another way, as due to the search for Reality. In relation 
to mental experience in general, this search gives us the 
True; in relation to Impression, it gives us the Beautiful; 
and in relation to Expression, it gives us the Good. If we 
are to discard this classical tripartite division, we should be 
able to account for its persistence. It results from an at- 
tempt to unify two diverse classifications, both bipartite; 
viz., i, the receptive-reactive classification, and, 2, the 
subjective-objective classification : Sensation and Intellect 
(knowing) being bound together on both the receptive-reac- 
tive and on the subjective-objective schemes; Pleasure-Pain 
and Emotion (feeling) being bound together on the subject- 
ive-objective scheme, the receptive-reactive quality being 
unmarked ; Will being marked by a common and coordinate 
emphasis of the reactive and also of the objective qualities. 
The existence of this tripartite division, thus explained, can 
therefore no longer be used as an argument for the bond 
between Emotion and Pleasure-Pain, which states are dis- 


tinctly separable, the relation between them being this : The 
Emotions are complex psychoses which almost invariably 
involve repressions or hypernormal activities, either of 
which are determinants either of pleasure or of pain. 

(14.) Notes on the Experimental Production of Hallucinations 
and Illusions. By Prof. W. ROMAINE NEWBOLD, Uni- 
versity of Pennsylvania. 

Dr. Newbold reported that in 22 out of 86 cases tried he 
had succeeded in producing illusions by causing the patients 
to gaze into a transparent or reflecting medium, such as 
water, glass, and mirrors. His most successful cases were 
found among young women under twenty years of age who 
were good visualisers, but as a majority of his subjects were 
young women, and as the experiments were by preference 
made upon good visualisers, he was not inclined to lay much 
stress upon these conditions. The phantasm was usually 
preceded by cloudiness, flushes of color or of light in the 
medium, and varied from a dim, colorless outline to a fully 
developed and brilliantly colored picture. The images were 
frequently drawn from the patient's recent visual experience, 
were sometimes fantastic and frequently unrecognised. The 
successive images were usually associated, if at all, by similar- 
ity, but frequently no relation could be discovered between 
them. Association by contiguity was excessively rare. The 
phantasm was frequently, but not always, destroyed by move- 
ments of the medium and by distracting sensory impressions 
and motor effort. Occasionally the phantasm was to a con- 
siderable degree independent of the medium, persisted for 
some time after the removal of the medium, and in one such 
case appeared to obey the laws of the after-image. The 
importance of such phenomena upon the question as to the 
value of the central component in the after-image is obvious. 

No trace was observed of telepathic or other supposed 
supernormal agency. There seemed to be no reason for 
regarding the phantasms of the glass as anything other than 
illusions of the ordinary types depending upon the glass as a 
point de rfyere. Their chief speculative importance, apart 
from the light which they may throw upon the after-image, 


lies in the fact that they present to us processes of associa- 
tion by similarity in concrete, sensible form, and in their 
possible relation to subconscious ' automatic' processes. 
While the phantasms as such cannot be regarded as demon- 
strating the existence of such processes, it is probable that, 
if subconscious automatism exists, its products may be trace- 
able in the phantasms of the glass. It is possible also that 
some specific relation exists between the hypnotic conscious- 
ness and the phantasm of the glass. Dr. Newbold found that 
images unrecognised by the waking consciousness were some- 
times recollected by the patient when hypnotised, and, vice 
versa, experiments by Mr. F. W. H. Myers have shown that 
a tale related in hypnosis is sometimes presented in the glass 
externalised in dramatic form. 

[This paper is to be printed in full in an early number of 

(15.) Experiments on Dermal Pain. By HAROLD GRIFFING, 
Ph.D., Columbia College. 

By means of an algometer transmitting pressure up to 15 
kilog. the average pain threshold was found to be for 40 
college students, 5.5 ; for 38 law students, 7.8; for 98 women, 
3.6; for 50 boys, 12-15 years of age, 4.8. The palm of the 
hand was the place of stimulation. The most sensitive parts 
of the body are those where the skin is not separated from 
the bone by muscular and other tissues. 

In 80 experiments on two observers the area was variable, 
areas of 10 mm., 30 mm., 90 mm. and 270 mm. being given. 
The corresponding average values of the pain threshold 
were 1.4 kilog., 2.8 kilog., 4.4 kilog. and 6.6 kilog. Thus 
the pain threshold increases with the area of stimulation, but 
much more slowly than in direct proportion. 

The time in which dermal stimuli of different intensities 
cause pain was found by noting the time that elapsed before 
the appearance of pain after weights had been placed in a 
balance pan in such a way as to press upon the hand. The 
averages in seconds, based upon 80 experiments on two ob- 
servers, are as follows: For 100 g., 230 sec. ; for 200 g., 35 
sec.; for 300 g., 10 sec. ; for 500 g., 4.5 sec. Thus the time, 


as well as the area and intensity of stimulation, are factors im 
dermal pain. There is, moreover, an intensive limit below 
which pressure stimuli never cause pain. Above this limit 
the sensory effect of the time seems to be in direct propor- 
tion to that of intensity. 

The pain threshold for falling weights was found to 
depend as much upon the height as the mass. As both the 
height and mass are proportional to the kinetic energy of 
the moving mass, the stimulus for dermal pain in impact 
must be considered the energy of the striking object. 

(16.) The Normal Night-Blindness of the Fovea. By CHRISTINE. 
LADD FRANKLIN, Baltimore. 

Konig's announcement in May, 1894, of the very close 
coincidence of the curve showing the distribution of bright- 
ness along the spectrum for (i) the totally color-blind and 
(2) the normal eye in a faint light, with the curve of relative 
absorption of different portions of the spectrum by the visual 
purple (and the obvious inference therefrom that the vision 
of the totally color-blind and that of the normal eye in a 
faint light are conditioned by the presence of the visual pur- 
ple in the retina) made necessary some assumption to take 
account of the fact that no visual purple has hitherto been 
found in the fovea. Two assumptions were possible, either 
that the cones (and hence the fovea) do contain visual purple, 
but of such an extremely decomposable character that it can 
never be detected objectively ; or, that the eye of the totally 
color-blind person, and the normal eye in a faint light, are 
actually blind in the fovea. As I had already made the 
prediction that total color-blindness consists in a defective 
development of the cones of the retina (Ztsch. f. Psych, u. 
Phys. der Sinnesorgane, Bd. IV., 1892) and also that the adap- 
tation which renders vision possible after twenty minutes in 
a faint light is conditioned by the growth of the visual pur- 
ple (Mind, N. S. III., p. 103) both predictions being nat- 
urally suggested by my theory of light-sensation I was 
most anxious to put the latter assumption to the test. I 
therefore undertook to determine, in the dark rooms of Prof. 
Konig's laboratory, the threshold for light-sensation for dif- 


ferent parts of the retina and for different kinds of mono- 
chromatic light (the full results of this investigation will 
appear later). The blindness of the fovea for faint light did 
not at once reveal itself; the act of fixation means holding 
the eye so that an image falls on the part of the retina best 
adapted for seeing it, and hence it would involve keeping the 
image oiit of the fovea in a faint light, if the fovea were really 
blind in a faint light. But after the total disappearance of 
the small bright object looked at had several times occurred 
by accident, it became possible to execute the motion of the 
eye necessary to secure it at pleasure. It was then found 
that the simple device of presenting a group of small bright 
objects to the eye of the observer was sufficient to demon- 
strate the 'normal night-blindness of the fovea' (as it may 
best be called) without any difficulty, one or the other of 
them is sure to fall into the dark hole of the fovea by acci- 
dent. It was only by means of this arragement of a number 
of small bright spots that the total blindness in the fovea of 
the totally color-blind boy could be detected, he had, of 
course, learned not to use his fovea in fixation. Prof. Konig 
then proceeded to demonstrate the total blindness in the 
fovea of the normal eye to blue light of wave-length about 
X47O. 1 [These experiments upon the normal eye were exhib- 
ited at Princeton.] It was shown that Konig's proof that the 
pigment-epithelium is the only layer of the retina which is 
affected by red, yellow and green light is not wholly con- 
clusive. The interpretation of the new facts, and their 
bearing upon the several theories of light-sensation, were 
discussed. [This paper appears in full in the PSYCHOLO- 
GICAL REVIEW for March, 1895.] 

(18.) The Muscular Sense und its Location in the Brain Cortex. 
By Prof. M. ALLEN STARR, New York. 

[This paper was presented in the absence of Prof. Starr. 
It may be found in full in the number of the PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW for January, 1895.] 

1 Prof. v. Kries is said to have shown that the experiments in question do not 
establish the blue-blindness of the fovea (Berichte der naturforschenden Gesellschaft 
zu Freibttrg, IX., 2, S. 61). I have not yet had access to this criticism. 


(19.) Psychology in the University of Toronto. Prof. J. G. 
HUME, University of Toronto. 

In the University of Toronto we begin the work in Psy- 
chology, etc., in the Sophomore year. Up to that time the 
students are engaged in language studies, mathematics, 
English history, chemistry, biology, etc. After the Sopho- 
more year they still continue some of this language study as 
supplemental to the philosophical course. The latter, begin- 
ning with psychology, logic and theory of knowledge in the 
second year, psychology, logic, theory of ethics, history of 
ethics and history of philosophy in the third year, keep 
extending until, in the fourth year, those who have selected 
this course give all their time to the subjects of the course 
without any supplemental work, taking, in the fourth year, 
psychology, ethics, history of philosophy, special readinj 
in the original of various selections from the whole period 
of modern philosophy, giving special attention to Kant and 

In experimental psychology : Second year, 2d part of 
the year: Demonstrations from the Director, explanation of 
methods and practice. In the third year, during the whole 
year, the class, divided into groups, is under the charge of 
the Director of the Laboratory. In the fourth year they 
are supposed to be able to undertake experiments of an inde- 
pendent character. Some of the inquiries started in the 
fourth year are continued in post-graduate work. 

In the present fourth year there are sixteen honor students 
conducting four sets of experiments, that is, in four groups, 
with four in each group: I. On Time reactions (Mechanical 
registration instead of the Chronoscope); II. Discrimination 
of Geometrical Figures and Letters in the Field of Indirect 
Vision; III. Discrimination of Color-saturation; IV. Di; 
crimination and Reproduction of Rhythmic Intervals. Ii 
post-graduate study there are two enquiries being continue( 
from last year: I. Estimation of Surface-magnitude; II. On 
Certain Optical Illusions. The Director of the Laboratory, 
Dr. August Kirschmann, has in the press a recently finished 
investigation upon the nature of the perception of metallic 

[This paper was presented in the absence of Prof. Hume.] 


The tendency to assume that the peculiar sensations involved in 
any psychological fact are the fact itself, comes out strongly in the 
present discussion over emotion. 

When it is shown, for instance, that apart from certain visceral 
and vaso-motor sensations there is no emotion worth speaking of, 
we are asked to view emotion and these sensations as identical. 
Why should we not, quite as well, take emotion to be merely a flutter 
of thought or a special aspect of attention ? Apart from these, there 
is likewise no * coarse ' emotion. 

In fact emotion requires the bodily sensations, but it requires 
them to be under definite mental conditions which are as indispen- 
sable as the sensations themselves. In the first place, some interest 
which will divert the attention so that these sensations may play the 
part of mere 'fringe,' is doubtless an important condition for the 
life of the sensations, but it is also more. Such an interest keeps 
the sensations in a peculiar relation to the whole mental field. So 
that the sudden loss of emotion when attention is turned to the 
body, is probably due less to the fading of the essential sensations 
than to their reversed relation in the general mental state. Momen- 
tarily even during strong excitement, so my observation goes, we 
can glance at the bodily commotion while many of its most striking 
elements continue vigorous. We may even cut down between them 
and us, viewing them as outsiders, as confusion of the body and not 
of the thinking itself. Instead of strong emotion the state instantly 
changes to one, say, of psychological query not markedly emotional. 
The next instant the attention is away, the sensations surge back 
over the thought, the point of interest is seen through the confusion, 
and the state is unmistakably emotional. As far as I could make 
out, the sensation-substrate of the two states is about the same, and 
yet the states themselves are decidedly different. 

In emotion we feel that there is confusion in us, in this end of 
the relation. But when we turn upon the bodily sensations them- 
selves, the confusion seems to go over to the other end of the 



relation. The object of attention now is in turmoil, but the thought- 
process itself may for a moment be comparatively calm. The state 
then need not be emotional, though the object watched is disturbed 

It is difficult to give the facts in less figurative language. But 
substituting the classic figures, we may say that for a state to be 
emotional it requires a special character of ' form ' as well as a 
special character of 'matter,' whether this matter be taken as sen- 
sation or 'tone' or both. In the general upheaval, the operations 
which relate the sensations are usually more or less disordered. The 
central nervous processes act spasmodically. Thought is wavering, 
and the confused bodily sensations seem part and parcel of the con- 
fused thinking. But these sensations are by no means equivalent to 
the emotion. They are merely one abstract aspect of the emotion, 
of which other important (though likewise abstract) aspects are the 
rush and whirl of thought, and the special relation of the sensations 
to the mental field. 



On p. 72 of the last number of the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW an 
omission was made in my abstract of the Sidgwick report on hallu- 
cinations which makes the calculated figure of 1300 on line 9 from 
the top of the page unintelligible. The figure calculated from the 
premises which I quote is 1400, for which my text substitutes 1300 
with no motive assigned. The motive obeyed by the authors of the 
report is the probable untrustworthiness of accounts of apparitions 
falling within the first ten years of the informant's life. Such 
visions are subtracted by the committee both from the total number 
of recognized apparitions and from the number of coincidental 
apparitions [See Proceedings of S. P. R., pp. 65, 247]. They form 
8 per cent, of the former, so that my abstract of the calculation 
should have dealt with ^ of 350 instead of 350. This makes 322, 
a figure which multiplied by 4 gives 1288. For this the committee 
substitute 1300, as a 'round number,' slightly more favorable to 
the adversary. W. J. 


Philosophical Remains of George Croom Robertson. With a Memoir. 
Edited by A. BAIN and T. WHITTAKER. London, Williams & 
Norgate, 1894. Pp. XXIV + 481. 

In this volume we have, with the exception of the little book on 
Hobbes and one or two historical articles, all Robertson's philosophi- 
cal writings. This goodly volume, however, is more than half com- 
posed by the republication of shorter articles, critical notices, and 
notes from Mind. An outsider may well wonder why a good deal of 
this should have been reprinted. The explanation is simple. Robert- 
son held a high reputation in England as a teacher of philosophy. 
This reputation owed something to the startling and sensational man- 
ner in which he appeared on the philosophic scene, when, as a youth 
of 25, and quite unknown beyond his own Scotch University, he was 
elected Professor of Philosophy at University College, London, over 
the head of Dr. James Martineau. This election, due to the strong 
backing of his teacher Dr. Bain, and Bain's friend George Grote, 
showed at least that there were some who expected high things of 
the Aberdeen youth. And their expectations were not disappointed. 
Robertson proved to be an excellent teacher, endowed with the 
peculiar gift of guiding the young learner into the labyrinth of phil- 
osophic complexities by help of a few well defined clues. To some 
his lectures were too elementary, and moved too slowly, but to the 
average student they were exceptionally helpful. He soon began to 
be known in London society as an authority on philosophical ques- 
tions. He was a member of the oddly-named Metaphysical Society, 
the raison d'etre of which is said to have been the desire of Lord 
Tennyson, expressed to his faithful attendant, Mr. James Knowles, 
to ascertain whether he had a soul, though it soon became evident that 
the experts, viz., the theologians of all creeds and the scientists, who 
were called in to decide the great question, were much more con- 
cerned to attack one another's views. Robertson could hardly have 
felt quite comfortable here, yet he managed to get this * metaphysi- 
cal ' omnium gatherum, or rather a portion of it, to listen to one or 
two papers of his own. Outside this society his influence steadily 



grew. His appointment to the editorship of Mind in 1876, when 
that journal led the way among English and American philosophical 
serials, greatly widened the sphere of his influence. This brought 
him later on into touch with Prof. W. James and other Americans 
as well as with French and German thinkers. The present given 
to him by contributors on his retiring from Mind two or three years 
ago showed how warmly he had attached many by his excellent con- 
duct of the journal. For some years his house was the rallying point 
of the small band of philosophic students of which London could 
then boast. Leslie Stephen, Shadworth Hodgson, F. Pollock (not 
then the baronet), F. Gurney, F. Galton, myself, and others, were 
often to be found there. W. James joined the circle the winter he 
remained in London. At this time Robertson's talk, which in spite 
of an occasional smack of the cathedral manner, was distinctly good r 
gave him prominence in such social gatherings. There was an 
energy, an alertness, tempered by an Aberdeen 'canniness,' which 
made him impressive, and he often had a happy way of cutting into a 
dialectic tangle and extricating the point of real importance. A 
painful illness was soon to compel him to retire from much of this 
old social life. 

It was necessary to say so much about Robertson's personality as. 
well as his teaching and editorial work in order to explain these 
Philosophical Remains. For a glance at them tells the reader that 
their collection is the outcome of a feeling of piety. But for this 
we certainly should not have had reprinted some of the critical 
notices which in these days of rapid psychological advance already 
look out of date. The truth is, as he more than once confessed to- 
me, Robertson was not a ready writer. This indeed betrays itself in 
the literary manner, which, though it has a decided character and 
certain good qualities, is apt to become awkward even to the point 
of contortion. The very pains-taking to be clear, to limit a statement 
to the dimensions of strict accuracy, ended by destroying smoothness. 

While there were these half mechanical difficulties in the way of 
literary production, there was I think another reason for its paucity. 
There is no evidence that Robertson was ever fully possessed by an 
impulse to write a considerable philosophical work. The work on 
which he was supposed, for many years after his appointment at 
University College, to be engaged, was a study of Hobbes. His little 
book, which appeared in the 'Philosophical Classics' series, into, 
which the results of these years' study were compressed, shows no 
doubt careful scholarship, and close critical study of his subject and 
its historical relations. Yet it does not I think suggest any large 


and important originality of thought. It strikes one in reading these 
Remains that Robertson had the freshness of view that goes to make 
a critical expositor and teacher rather than a true constructive origi- 
nality. As a teacher he was never so happy as when reading and 
expounding some philosophic classic to one of his small class of 
advanced students. The very fact that his one book was mainly a 
historical exposition seems to say that his bent lay in the direction of 
philosophic exegesis and of historical criticism. The same impres- 
sion is, I think, borne out by the Remains. The best critical notices 
seem to me to be those of works on the history of philosophy. Other 
articles, not dealing directly with the history of the subject, show the 
same tendencies. Thus the excellent article on 'Axiom,' and in a 
less degree also the other longer articles reprinted from the Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica, viz., 'Analysis,' and 'Association of Ideas,' show 
how Robertson's strength lay in what one may call the expository 
clarification of ideas. The way in which the word 'Axiom' has come 
to mean the different things it does is admirably traced out by a 
happy combination of accurate historical learning and logical co- 
ordinative power. These papers are in their way models of Encyclo- 
pedia articles. They show the same qualities, accuracy, perspicacity, 
grasp, and, what is equally important, a clearly recognizable method, 
which helped to make him an eminent teacher. 

It is time, however, in writing a notice of Robertson's work, for 
a psychological journal to say something about his work on 
psychology. As the most distinguished pupil of Alexander Bain, for 
many years the commanding influence in British psychology, as the 
hearer of Lotze and other distinguished Europeans, Robertson was 
always looked on, more than anything else, as a psychologist. And 
this way of regarding him was in the main justified. He put for- 
ward in an admirably clear and convincing manner the claims of psy- 
chology to be the propsedeutik among philosophers' disciplines. The 
position is made clear in the introductory lecture which he gave on 
his appointment to the chair of University College, and is made 
still clearer in an article on 'Psychology and Philosophy,' published 
in Mind. The establishment of this journal which, as Bain gen- 
erously allows in his far too short memoir prefixed to the Remains, 
was in considerable part Robertson's work, was intended, as its title 
and its editorial preface clearly showed, to give fundamental prom- 
inence to psychological work and thought, and this intention was 
never lost sight of. Although there was no experimental psychology 
in England, and the later experimental work in America had not 
begun, Robertson managed to get together a good deal of valuable 


contribution ; so that Mind will long remain an important work of 
reference for psychologists. His own contributions to the journal 
show that his mind was fairly engaged with all the newer researches, 
psychological and physiological, which bear on the understanding of 
mental processes. Here, however, one recognizes rather the skill 
with which newer results are brought into relation to older ideas than 
original contribution, the setting forth of new and luminous psycho- 
logical ideas. Now and again no doubt there is an attempt to elabo- 
rate a new conception, as where in the article on ' Axiom ' he seeks 
to apply the muscular theory of space-consciousness to the problem 
of mathematical axioms and to show that (as Kant said in his way) 
by " acting constructively in our experience, both of number and of 
form, we, in a manner, make the ultimate relations of both to be 
what for us they must be in all circumstances" (p. 129). More am- 
bitious is the attempt to get over the difficulty of the genesis of space- 
consciousness by saying that we know thing or object as resistant 
before we know extension or space, that the successions of muscular 
experience by which we come to know extension, somehow get trans- 
formed into the intuitive of space by being referred to the more fund- 
amental object-intuition (p. 279 ff.). It is not quite easy to seize 
Robertson's exact drift here. Much of what he writes here looks as 
if he thought the psychologists' task was to explain the objective 
reference of a space-consciousness already existent, rather than to 
account for the form or structure of this space-consciousness itself. 
Yet while these contributions to psychological discussion are not as 
impressive as one might have expected, they are fresh and suggestive, 
and they make one regret that Robertson did not give a fuller state- 
ment of his views on other perplexing points. 

Yet Robertson's friends, at heart, will value this volume as a re- 
flection of the mind and, in some respects, of the character they 
knew and valued. If it gives us no striking contribution to the 
field of modern psychological research, it shows us the eager and pa- 
tient spirit resolved to track ideas to their sources and their elements ; 
it shows us the born teacher to whom luminous apprehension of truth 
must express itself in no less luminous an exposition. Such men are 
as great benefactors as the writers of works. Robertson's devotion 
to philosophic work, which, as Leslie Stephens' enthusiastic letter tells 
us, became almost heroic, when for years it had to contend with 
most unstable health and bouts of prostrating physical suffering, de- 
serves a permanent record in America hardly less than in England. 



Lectures on Human and Animal Psychology. W. WUNDT. Translated 
by J. E. Creighton and E. B. Titchener. London, Sonnenshein; 
New York, Macmillan. 1894. Pp. X-f-454. 

A few years ago a new edition of Professor Wundt's celebrated 
book Vorlesungen iiber Menschen-und Thierseele appeared. The first 
edition was written thirty years ago at a time when the problems of 
empirical psychology had just begun to be realized in all their sig- 
nificance. Since that time psychology as an experimental science has 
greatly developed ; it has adopted and devised exact methods of 
research ; it has followed out carefully many investigations and 
proved by the results, that the same mathematical accuracy, with 
which natural sciences like physics and astronomy carry out their 
work, may be applied successfully to the natural science of mind. 
The necessity of a psychological way of viewing the facts besides the 
physical is in our days universally acknowledged. The new edition 
of the book mentioned is thoroughly revised by the addition of the 
results of recent investigations and by the omission of every thing 
which has not stood the test of greater light. 1 In size the book has 
been considerably reduced, by dropping those discussions which have 
now developed into a certain independence as special sciences, such 
as Social Psychology. The book is arranged in thirty lectures, the 
first thirteen treating Sensation and Presentation. In Lects. 14 to 
20, the Feelings and their Relations, the Theories of Association and 
Apperception are treated. The last part of the book, Lects. 21 to 
30, deals with the more complicated problems of animal and human 
psychical life: Mentality of Higher Animals, Development of Intel- 
lectual Functions, Instinctive and Voluntary Actions, Mental Dis- 
turbances, Dreams, the Hypnotic and Posthypnotic phenomena, etc., 
closing with a discussion of the ultimate questions of psychology 
and their philosophical bearing. 

Messrs. Creighton and Titchener are fortunate in having fur- 
nished us with a carefully prepared and excellent translation of this 
book into English ; and many who wish to become acquainted with 
the ideas of this German philosopher, whose efforts have brought 
about such wonderful advancement of psychological science, will en- 
tertain a sense of gratitude to the translators for saving them the 
trouble of seeking their way directly and in the original language 
through the more difficult books of the same author. 


'A great improvement is also seen in the addition of many good illustrations. 


Primer of Psychology. By G. T. LADD. New York, Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons, 1894. Pp. IX -f- 224. 

Professor Ladd's Primer is like his other books in that it is care- 
fully written, systematic, and embodies the latest results of psycho- 
logical research. It wisely leaves out metaphysical discussion, 
confining itself to psychology proper, a feature of especial impor- 
tance in view of the class of readers to which it is primarily 
addressed. Its style is somewhat unequal, being in parts quite 
simple and adapted to immature students, and in parts rather 
burdened with scholastic terms which might, I think, have been 
avoided. It is not, however, with the use of technical terms that I 
chiefly quarrel. One may use a rather large number of such terms 
and yet write in a style which is plain, easy, and entertaining. A 
book which bears the title of ' Primer' should be written in such a 
style. It should be fresh and unstilted, free from all flavor of schol- 
asticism, it should not smack of the professor's chair. Such 
books are not easy to write. They can not readily be thrown off 
as "a recreation between two much more bulky and serious pieces 
of work." They require great skill, not only in the selection of 
material, but also in the exposition of the material selected. They 
call for a rare insight into and a rare sympathy with the ways of 
thinking of young and immature minds, so easily repelled by what is 
'dry,' and discouraged from further effort. Learning may be 
rather a hindrance than a help in the writing of such books. It may 
separate one too far from the class of readers one wishes to reach. 

In the present instance I cannot but think that the above criti- 
cism may with justice be applied. I do not mean to make the 
criticism at all a severe one, for Professor Ladd's book is usually 
clear and is well arranged. I should not hesitate to use the 
'Primer' with a class of young people. But I have felt in reading 
it that it is dry, and that the writer lacks that peculiar gift a very 
rare gift it is of writing successfully for the young. To do this one 
must above all be fresh and simple and natural. One must forget 
one's learning, and with it the turns of phrase which are out of 
place in the 'Elements of Physiological Psychology' and the 
'Introduction to Philosophy.' When one spends one's life among 
such, it is, of course, not easy to forget them. 

Over the contents of the book I need not linger, as Professor 
Ladd's opinions are well known. I wish that in the chapter on feel- 
ing he had indicated more clearly the ambiguity of the word. 
Certainly the impossibility of describing what is meant by feeling 
(P* 53) cannot refer to the complex experiences to which the word is 


applied a little later (p. 56). We can at least point out, as Pro- 
fessor James has so well done, some of the elements which enter 
into these. Such a pointing out of the elements in a complex is 
what constitutes description of a thing seen, though, in this 
latter case, the analysis is one more readily made. Again, it does 
not seem to me likely to aid one in clearing up the psychology of 
memory to state that " every act of memory with recognition 
transcends the present, and connects the present into a known real 
unity with the past ; " and, having thus stared the difficulty boldly 
in the face, to pass on with the remark that this is one of the pro- 
foundest of all mysteries. The mystery is, I think, not psychologi- 
cal, but, if it exist at all, epistemological. In psychology we are 
concerned only with the question, "What mental elements are 
actually present in a given mind when it recognizes something?" 
These elements we may not be able to enumerate, and in so far we 
may call them mysterious; but when the problem is stated psycho- 
logically it does not, I think, present so hopeless an aspect as it does 
when stated as it is by Professor Ladd. 

In looking over the above I find I have made my criticism more 
negative than I had intended. I have not dwelt upon the merits of 
the 'Primer' as much as I have upon what appear to me its short- 
comings. It was perhaps as well to do this, for it goes without 
saying that a new book by Professor Ladd should have the strong 
points which characterize his other books. The author has been too 
long in the field, and is too well known, to make it necessary to 
praise him. G. S. F. 

The Elements of Metaphysics. PAUL DEUSSEN. Translated from the 
Second Edition by C. M. Duff. London and New York, Mac- 
millan & Co. Pp. XXIV + 337. 

Dr. Deussen, the author of the Elements, has been known for years 
as an enthusiastic student of Indian Philosophy and a representative 
of that school of Orientalists who reject the negative conceptions 
that have been historically associated with Buddhism and follow 
Cankara as the true interpreter of Hindu Metaphysics. Dr. Deussen's 
own philosophical position is Kanto-Schopenhauerian. Kant he asserts 
was the first discoverer of the true principle of philosophy, while 
Schopenhauer alone has developed that principle truly and said the 
last word in metaphysics. This being the author's faith his work is 
on the whole a pretty faithful reproduction of the philosophy of these 



Dr. Deussen starts with a distinction between Science and Philo- 
sophy. The standpoint of science is empirical and materialistic. 
Materialism can be overcome only in the transcendental standpoint 
of philosophy which regards the world under the dual Kantian 
categories of phenomena and things in themselves. This Kantian 
distinction has been translated by Schopenhauer into corresponding 
subjective terms, intellect or reason, and will. The world is dual, 
it is a world of intellect and a world of will. Now, the intellect 
whose innate forms are space, time and causality is a purely phe- 
nomenal faculty through which the will projects a world in space and 
time and causal connection. But this world is appearance and not 
reality. The intellect is material in its objective constitution, being 
identical with the brain. But this whole world of the intellect is ap- 
pearance and must be transcended in order that the world of reality 
may be reached. 

The thing in itself, or real, is the will whose central motive is the 
striving for life or self-realization. This striving of will expresses 
itself as the Platonic ideas in the physical forces of the world, thus 
grounding the phenomenal world in its deeper dynamic aspect. Dr. 
Deussen makes a tripartite division of transcendental philosophy into 
the metaphysics of nature, of the beautiful, and of morality. The 
main ideas of the first division have been given above. In nature 
which also includes the ordinary phenomena of man, the will does 
not manifest its archetypes as they are in themselves, in their 'un- 
spoiled form and beauty,' but only an adumbration of these. For 
the more adequate expression we must pass first to the Metaphysics 
of the Beautiful and finally to the Metaphysics of Morality. Nature 
is the expression of the affirmation of the will to life which is em- 
pirical, individual, egoistic. It can be transcended only by denial 
through which alone is a door opened into the heart of reality. Now, 
art in its feeling for the beautiful which Kant defines as a * disinter- 
ested delight,' enters this door through a kind of self-forgetting of 
the will. The will is affirmative in its nature and does not care for 
things in themselves, but only as they affect it. But in the art-feel- 
ing this egoism drops temporarily out of sight and the will experi- 
ences a delight in that which has no reference to itself. This is a 
contradiction which art cannot explain and we are led on to morality 
for its solution. It is only in morality and religion that the phenom- 
enal world and its contradictions are actually transcended. 

Dr. Deussen's treatment of the metaphysics of morality embraces 
the following essential points, (i) The tripartite classification of 
the will-functions under the dual categories, Physics and Metaphysics, 


giving the following: Thinking as empirical and transcendental; 
Perceiving as individual and aesthetic; Acting as affirming and deny- 
ing; the metaphysical exercise of these functions giving respectively, 
Philosophy, Art, Religion. (2) The principle of sin and evil which 
is egoistic affirmation. This is the root of both sin and suffering. 
(3) The Principle of Morality which is denial. Salvation from sin 
and suffering only comes through the denial of the will to life. (4) 
The way of achieving this self-denial of will. This includes, (a) the 
classification of springs of action arising from Affirmation and Denial; 
from the former malice and egoism, representing Paganisms; from the 
latter, compassion and asceticism, being the dominating motives of 
Christianity; (b) the two paths to self-denial, sympathy and suffer- 
ing; (c) also the steps by which denial is achieved, justice, love, as- 
ceticism. (5) The goal of morality which may be expressed in various 
ways as the Kingdom of Heaven, Blessedness, Peace that passeth 
understanding, Nirvana. This state, as Deussen conceives it, is 
reached by a transcendence of individuality, but it is not purely 
negative. It is a state of positive experience and the denial itself 
cannot, therefore, be absolute. 

Here, I think, we strike a crucial point in the metaphysics which 
Deussen represents. It seeks to make denial the last word in re- 
ligious philosophy. But it manifestly is not the last word if the 
goal, the kingdom of heaven, nirvana, is not purely negative. In 
morality we strike a dualism between a lower and a higher self, as a 
basal fact. In the light of this, egoism becomes the affirmation of 
the lower self. But in its relation to the higher self it is denial and 
what the metaphysics which Deussen represents, calls denial, is in 
truth the denial of denial and is thus a higher affirmation. I do not 
see how the last word of morality and religion can be anything else 
than affirmation, an affirmation in which the highest self is realized. 

From the psychological point of view Deussen's book possesses 
several points of interest. In common with the writers of his school 
he has done service to psychology in the emphasis he places upon the 
will. But just here, I think, we strike the greatest psychological de- 
fect of the school ; its tendency to divorce too completely the intel- 
lect from the will. The inevitable result of this is a shallow con- 
ception of the intellect on the one hand and the identification of will 
with blind instinct, on the other. Between the two the teleological 
character of consciousness is lost sight of or inadequately treated. 
Again while Dr. Deussen's work is rich in fragments of psychological 
analysis, it is almost totally lacking in dynamic and genetic concep- 
tions. Perhaps this is an unfair criticism to make on a work in met- 

1 84 ETHICAL. 

aphysics. But I think our whole metaphysical conception of the re- 
lation of phenomena to an absolute ground, or, in Kantian phrase, 
to things in themselves, will be profoundly affected by our psycho- 
logical faith on this point. If we admit the genetic idea in psy- 
chology our whole world will become impenetrated with dynamism 
and it will no longer be possible to treat the phenomenal as mere ap- 

But enough of criticism. Dr. Deussen's metaphysics is one of 
the most valuable of the many works that have been appearing lately 
in English. And its English dress is in every way worthy of it and 
creditable to the translator. It is a book that no one can read 
seriously without getting rich suggestions and having his spiritual in- 
tuition greatly quickened. And the fine religious spirit that per- 
vades it will commend it to every one who values the religious aspect 
of philosophy. A. T. ORMOND. 



The Elements of Ethics. J. H. HYSLOP. New York, Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons, 1895. Pp. VII., 476. 

Dr. Hyslop's book might appropriately be entitled an analytic of 
Logical Conceptions. Its purpose is critical and analytic rather than 
constructive. The work has been done with that thoroughness and 
detail which we would expect from a man of Dr. Hyslop's ability and 
logical equipment. 

After defining ethics and considering the sense in which it is a 
science, and its relations to other sciences, in his introduction, the 
author gives in Chapter II a very interesting digest of the history of 
ethical thought in ancient, mediaeval and modern times down to 
Hume. This is valuable in itself and a very good Introduction to 
the discussions which follow. Chapter III is devoted to defining 
terms and stating and defining the elements entering into the ethical 
problem. In chapter IV on the Freedom of the Will, the most con- 
spicuously able chapter in the book, Dr. Hyslop distinguishes the 
various species of freedom, identifies moral freedom with velleity or 
power of alternative choice, defends it against necessitarian objec- 
tion and shows how man's physiological mechanism, through its 
function of inhibition, adapts him to the exercise of free choice and 
volition. The bearing of heredity and environment and the general 
question of motives are treated with ability and discrimination. Dr. 
Hyslop rejects indeterminism and identifies freedomism with the 


species of determinism which recognizes the possibility of alternative 
choice. The discussion on freedom prepares the way for a discrim- 
inating analysis of Responsibility and Punishment in Chapter V. 
Chapters VI and VII treat of the Nature and Origin of Conscience. 
The analysis of conscience is interesting but need not delay us. In 
his chapter on the Origin of Conscience Dr. Hyslop discusses nativism 
and empiricism, and their various subdivisions. He is a nativist and 
yet gives generous recognition to empiricism in both its individ- 
ualistic and evolutionary forms. Nativistic theories include three 
species, Theism, Naturalism and Intuitionism. Distinguishing two 
forms of Intuitionism, general and special, Dr. Hyslop accepts the 
former which affirms an original power distinguishing right and 
wrong, but not the right and wrong of particular acts, as the theory 
that is best borne out by the facts. This enables him to admit the 
claims of empiricism to a large extent and to recognize a wide sphere 
for evolution in developing morality out of its elements. The only 
concept of evolution which Dr. Hyslop rejects is that which ascribes 
to it a creative function and claims that morality can be developed 
out of conditions that contain none of it. From this point of view 
the theories of Darwin and Spencer are criticised and the position 
is combatted that the theory of evolution necessitates any radical 
reconstruction of ethical theory. In Chapter VIII, theories of the 
nature of morality are classified and discussed. Adopting a classifi- 
cation based on the end or summum bonum. Dr. Hyslop divides theories 
generally into Hedonism and Moralism. The Hedonistic theories 
agree in making pleasure or happiness the moral end and divide into 
Egoistic Hedonism and Utilitarianism. Moralism sets either excel- 
lence or duty as the end and this divides into Perfectionism and 
Formalism or, as some writers call it, Rigorism. A careful analysis 
of these conceptions of the end reveals elements of value in them all 
and supplies the data for a more adequate synthesis. The last two 
chapters, IX and X, discuss the important topics, Morality and 
Religion, and the Theory of Rights and Duties. 

The merits of Dr. Hyslop's book are so great as to make criticism 
seem almost impertinent. I venture, however, to note several 
points on which I think a little more explicitness would be desirable. 
First, regarding freedom. Dr. Hyslop appears to limit the power 
of alternative choice to means. But is there not also a choice of 
ends, and is not this more of the essence of freedom than the mere 
choice of means ? If our nature determines our end must it not 
supply dual alternatives for choice between higher and lower ends ? 
Again, gradations of freedom are recognized and Dr. Hyslop 

1 86 ETHICAL. 

is willing to admit that some people may have very little 
of it. Does he mean velleity, and if so must he not recognize a 
more vital connection between heredity and freedom than he seems 
willing to admit. Secondly, it seems to me, and will perhaps strike 
others in the same way, that Dr. Hyslop has carried the legitimate 
distinction between the questions of origin and validity so far as 
to lose sight, partially, of the vital bearing which theories of origin 
must have on questions of validity. In spite of the logical separ- 
ation, our psychogeny will determine largely the complexion of our 
metaphysics. And in this connection it seems to me that evolu- 
tion has a more vital relation to ethical theory than Dr. Hyslop 
allows to it in his discussion. Lastly, respecting the relation of 
morality and religion, while agreeing with Dr. Hyslop's major 
proposition that the validity of moral science is not to be staked 
on the acceptance of any religious postulate, and with nearly all 
that is said in connection with it, I still feel that the religious 
thinker will have some grounds, in view of the whole discussion, for 
thinking that the problem has not been treated with sufficient in- 
sight. He will be likely to think that religion has been pushed a 
little too much to one side, and that just as it is possible to recognize 
the full right and independence of science in the sphere of its own 
categories, and yet to subsume it under the categories of meta- 
physics, so in the case of religion it is possible to recognize the full 
right and independence of moral science, while at the same time sub- 
suming it under the categories of religion. The religious thinker 
will be disposed to regard the relation as one rather of comprehen- 
sion and harmony, than of exclusion and mutual conflict. 

But the faults of Dr. Hyslop's book are few compared with its 
merits. I feel under a great debt of personal obligation to the 
author for his masterly and luminous analysis. For the task that Dr. 
Hyslop has performed there was great need in this country and the 
work has been thoroughly done. His book is the most notable of 
recent contributions to the science, and will give him a front rank 
among ethical thinkers. It will also tend to raise the plane of 
ethical discussion in this country, and to put the problems of 
morality in a position where they can be more sharply defined and 
more intelligently treated. A. T. ORMOND. 


Johnson's Universal Cyclopaedia. Vols. I-V (A Mozambique). New 
York, Johnson Co., 1894. 

The striking feature of the philosophic content of this Cyclopaedia 
compared, not simply with former editions of itself, but also with 


other cyclopaedias, is the much more adequate attention given to 
psychological topics. This may not unreasonably be attributed, I 
suppose, to the presence among its editors of Professor Baldwin; 
just as the editorial care of Dr. Harris had previously made the 
metaphysical side of philosophy more prominent in Johnson's than 
in any other save the Britannica. There seems to be particularly good 
reason for ascribing the difference to the interest of Prof. Baldwin 
in the fact that it is only in the fourth and fifth volumes, after Prof. 
Baldwin is well installed in the editorial chair, that the psychological 
articles become numerous. Some of the psychological topics which 
are so unfortunate as to begin with A or B, are in quite striking con- 
trast to the accuracy and fullness of the later articles. The article 
on Association of Ideas, for example, gives a fair descriptive state- 
ment, but is quite innocent of modern problems and methods, to say 
nothing of results. In contrast with the definitely experimental tone 
pervading the later articles, it is somewhat startling to read regard- 
ing association, that the search for a physiological solution is in 
vain, and to find the following proposition set forth as an explana- 
tion: "This wonderful power of the human mind is part of the per- 
fection which it owes to the Great Being who is its author." 

The letters G, H and / are fortunately very rich in psychological 
captions and the comparative barrenness of the earlier pages is more 
than made good. I know of no better way to give an idea of the 
variety of topics treated than to give a running list of the more 
important subjects: Genetic Psychology, Genius, Habit, Hedonism, 
Hypnotism, Ideal Feelings (Emotion), Ideals, Illusion, Imagination, 
Imitation, Impulse, Innervation, Instinct, and Insanity, all by Pro- 
fessor Baldwin; Generalization, Hegel, Hindu Philosophy, Idea, 
Idealism, Identity, Immortality, Infinite, by Dr. Harris, and Intui- 
tionalism, by the present writer. The article on Histology by Dr. 
Piersol should also be mentioned. In general, it may be noted that 
the neurological side is quite carefully looked after. 

To go into as much detail regarding all the letters would render 
this notice a catalogue, not a review, but the articles on Localization 
(in space and of brain functions) and upon Motive by Professor 
Baldwin, and that by Dr. Cattell upon memory should be noted. It 
is in no way invidious to any of the other articles to say that the 
article upon memory is in respect to its objectivity, lucidity and 
presentation of current scientific problems and method, a model of 
what cyclopaedia information should be. 

Several of Professor Baldwin's articles seem to me a distinct ad- 
vance upon his own statement of the same subject in his Psychology. 

1 88 ETHICAL. 

The idea is more definitely put, and the style more precise. There 
are many of these articles to which not only the ' general reader,' 
but the psychological specialist will turn with interest, and, judging 
from my own case (if I may venture for the nonce to pose as a spe- 
cialist) with profit. The article, for example, on impulse is highly 
suggestive ; the reference of impulse to the central apparatus as 
representing the growth of the whole system, rather than to a specific 
stimulus, appears to be a very decided advance upon previous efforts 
to discriminate impulse from reflex-action. The article upon imita- 
tion is excellent, as we should expect from one who has made the 
psychology of that subject peculiarly his own. The article upon 
emotion (under the caption of Ideal Feeling) is admirable, save the at- 
tempt to state the theories offered in explanation. Of course not 
everything can be given in such an account ; and yet surely, the 
contribution of James-Lange is too important, whether accepted or 
rejected, to be so briefly summed up. The attempt of Darwin to 
explain emotional expressions might well have received some at- 
tention. The article on Imagination would have been helped by 
reference to the concrete investigations in imagery; but aside from 
that it is well done. (There is a heading Generic Image, referring one 
to image, but the latter does not appear as a distinct topic ; it may 
also be noted in this connection that a q. v. to Insistent Ideas is found 
in the article upon Illusion, but no such caption occurs.) The article 
upon Genetic Psychology is too short to give Prof. Baldwin a fair 
opportunity, but fortunately we shall soon have a chance to read a 
fuller expression of his views. This present account is clear and 
full within its limits. But I wonder when I read the following : 
"Suppose we say, with many psychologists, that volition is neces- 
sary to all adaptive muscular efforts ; an appeal to the child shows 
us so many facts to the contrary that we are able to bring genetic 
psychology to refute the position." I do not wonder at Prof. Bald- 
win's saying this ; on the contrary, it is true enough to immediate 
facts. But I wonder if the final outcome of the appeal to the child 
will not be to change the ready-made concept of volition which 
serves as the standard in the above instance, and to generalize the 
idea of volition by making it equivalent to all acquired coordination. 
However, I might go on indefinitely commenting upon points of in- 
terest. I shall fulfill my duty better if I divert the attention both of 
psychologists and the general public to the unusually full and sug- 
gestive discussion of psychological topics to be found in this last 
edition of Johnson's cyclopaedia. Teachers will find its great value 
for reference further increased by the generally good and up-to-date 
bibliographies. J. D. 



From the Greeks to Darwin. H. F. OSBORN. Columbia University 

Biological Series, No. i. New York and London. Macmillan, 

1894. Pp. X+259. 
Amphioxas and the Ancestry of the Vertebrates. A. WILLEY. Columbia 

University Biological Series, No. 2. New York and London. 

Macmillan, 1894. Pp. XIV -f 316. 

In these two volumes we have the beginning of a biological series 
which promises to be of importance for psychologists, since the topics 
of these and other volumes announced are the broader and more 
philosophical ones in the settlement of which the theory of the 
mental life is also involved. Prof. Osborn traces the history of the 
evolution idea before Darwin in an interesting way and with great 
perspicuity of style. From the psychologist's point of view more 
reference to mental development might possibly have been made ; 
and yet it may be that the author found that his intimations of Dar- 
winism before Darwin were not capable of such a reference. The 
book of Dr. Willey deals with the very vital question of the ancestry 
of the vertebrates; and while the conclusions upon the broader matters 
of descent are not large, still psychologists should know many more 
facts than they do of just the sifted kind which are here given. Our 
space only allows us to recommend these books, not on our own au- 
thority indeed, but as already approved by the biological authorities 
to whom we must defer. 

The Factors in Organic Evolution. D. S. JORDAN. Boston, Ginn & 

Co., 1894. Pp. V+I49. 

It is difficult to see what purpose this volume can serve. Dr. 
Jordan prints a great mass of catch-sentences, clauses, and words 
under the main headings of current evolution thought, sometimes 
calling upon his colleagues to treat special topics in the same brief 
and unsuggestive way. It is possible, of course, that the author 
may find such a syllabus ' useful in the hands of his classes, while 
he himself fills out the outline by lecturing. But why he should pub- 
lish it why ? Those readers who know what the terms and catch- 
words mean, and know intelligently, do not need to be reminded of 
the categories of the subject ; and those who do not, are not taught. 
Possibly a few teachers who lack time to plan their own lectures 
may follow the author's skeleton. The peculiar way of printing the 
book with double blank pages throughout would seem to indicate 
that this is the writer's idea. But time-limits and sense-limits in 
different schools and colleges are so different that independent men 
will probably prefer to do their own schematization. 


Illustrated Dictionary of Medicine, Biology, and Allied Sciences. G. M. 

GOULD. Philadelphia, Blakiston, 1894. Pp. XV 4-1633. 
The ' Dictionary ' falls midway between two others which psy- 
chologists, who can afford them all, ought to have : One is Tuke's 
Dictionary of Psychological Medicine, and the other is Quain's Medical 
Dictionary (2d ed. 1894). Gould's book is more properly a dictionary, 
while the others are more properly encyclopedias. As a dictionary, 
Gould's work defines, in a reliable way, the terms of the whole group 
of cognate branches which touch upon biology and ought to serve a 
very useful purpose to psychologists, especially in these days when 
pathology, on one side, and development on the other, are bringing 
medicine and biology into such close touch with our own proper 
study. The present reviewer is not competent to criticise the def- 
initions except as they are in his field ; but judging from the sample 
topics in which he feels at home, and from the auspices under which 
the work appears, it seems altogether reliable. It is a pity more 
terms were not drawn from psychology for the benefit of the phys- 
icians and biologists who will be the main buyers ; for they need in- 
struction in general psychology. 

Epitome of the Synthetic Philosophy. F. H. COLLINS. London, Williams 

and Norgate, 1894. 3d ed. Pp. XlX-f 639. 
The original * epitome ' by Mr. Collins is now so well known that 
we need only call attention to this late edition. Its advance on the 
earlier editions is of course apparent, since it includes Mr. Spencer's 
last publications. The compiler indicates just what the addition is 
in these words : "By Mr. Spencer's kind permission I am enabled 
to include in this edition an abridgment to one-tenth (the propor- 
tion which holds all the way through) of his recent Principles of Ethics. 
The present volume thus represents in miniature the whole of The 
Synthetic Philosophy at present published." 

J. M. B. 


Notes on the Development of a Child. M. W. SHINN. Part II. Uni- 
versity of California Studies. Vol. I, Berkeley, 1894. Pp. 

This is the second installment of Miss Shinn's valuable observa- 
tions on her little niece. The paging is continuous through the 
two parts, making a total so far of 178 large pamphlet pages. The 
notes on the sense of sight are brought to a close by a chapter on 
* Sight in the Third Year,' then Hearing, the Dermal Senses, Taste 


and Smell are treated. By the end of the second year the discrim- 
ination of colors was practically complete, but no aesthetic interest 
in color-arrangements was apparent even in the third year. The 
child seemed, however, to be conscious of the defects in her 
attempts at drawing. Sensitiveness to sounds seemed different at 
different times, even apart from the effects of fatigue. Her atten- 
tion was attracted by the experience of ' double touch ' (the hands 
touching each other) on the 64th day. Sensibility to pain through 
hurts or extremes of temperature was very low during the first two 
months. " Taste at no time played as large a part among the 
child's interests," as the author expected. "To see others eating a 
favorite food was often desired as a substitute for eating it herself." 
If this comparative indifference to tastes was due (as the author 
seems to think) largely to training, it seems to me that a point is 
suggested here of the very highest pedagogical importance. 

De la suggestibility naturelle chez les enfants. A. BINET and V. HENRI. 
Revue Philosophique, Oct., 1894. P. 338. 

Understanding by 'natural suggestion' that form of influence 
which, in ordinary conditions, people exercise upon one another, 
the problem was to investigate the effects of natural suggestion upon 
the simple judgments of children. The children were graded 
according to age, as follows : ist grade, children between seven and 
nine ; 2d grade, children between nine and eleven ; 3d grade, chil- 
dren between eleven and thirteen. The tests involved suggestions 
of three sorts : 

(I) The suggestion of a preconceived idea. Three lines of different 
lengths were shown to the child in succession ; then, after a short 
interval, a chart was presented to him containing lines varying regu- 
larly in length, of which Nos. 5, n and 18 corresponded in length 
to the three models ; and he was asked to pick out those lines which 
were equal to the models. Then the test was repeated with this 
difference : that in the chart now presented to the child the five 
longest lines (Nos. 17-21), and therefore the line corresponding to 
the third model were lacking. The force of suggestion would be 
felt in the expectation, on the child's part, of a uniform experience 
in the two tests (especially as in the second case the third model was 
shown him, just as in the first), and in his natural timidity and reluc- 
tance to declare the absence of the looked-for line, even if he sus- 
pected it. Over against this we must place the accuracy of his 
judgment and the correctness of his memory. The result was that 
a certain number believed themselves to find in the second chart a 
line of the length of the third model, and chose accordingly. Now 


of these a certain number had in the first test chosen for the third 
model a line below No. 16 on the chart of 21 lines. These were 
now counted out, for the obvious reason that since they had made 
this erroneous judgment, where there was no suggestion, they could 
not be presumed to have made it through suggestion in the second 
case. The whole experiment was now repeated with the rest, with 
the result that the susceptibility to suggestion was, on the average, in 
inverse proportion to the child's age. Of the children in the first grade, 
88 per cent., in the second 60 per cent., and in the third 47 per 
cent, yielded to the suggestion of the preconceived idea and selected 
a line for the third model from the second or incomplete chart. So 
far we have only judgments based upon memory. Now the child 
was allowed to see the model and the chart at the same time (direct 
comparison). Using only one model (the third) the results were : 
with the complete chart 67 per cent, of the children erred in direct 
comparison and 79 per cent, in memory comparison. When the 16- 
line chart was used, 38 per cent, made errors in direct comparison 
and 65 per cent, in memory comparison. There seemed also, in the 
case of direct comparison, more assurance and less timidity, and so 
less susceptibility to suggestion, than in the other case. 

(II) Verbal Suggestion. A line 40 mm. long was shown to the 
child, and he was asked to choose a line of that length from a chart 
as before. At the moment of his doing so, however, the experi- 
menter said, in a calm, even voice, and without gesture : 'Are you 
quite sure you are right?' The result was that, in the case of 
memory-comparison, 89 per cent, of the ist grade children, 80 per 
cent, of the 2nd grade, and 54 per cent, of the 3rd grade hesitated 
and then changed their selection, under the influence of the verbal 
suggestion. In the case of direct comparison the figures are: ist 
grade, 74 per cent.; 2nd grade, 73 per cent.; 3rd grade, 48 per 
cent. Here, again, the younger the child the less stable his judg- 
ment and the more open he is to suggestion. Here, too, we see as 
before that fewer errors are made in direct comparison than in 
memory-comparison. Again it was observed that those whose judg- 
ments were correct were less open to suggestion than the others. 
Only 56 per cent, of the former to 88 per cent, of the latter changed 
their selections. Again, of those who changed their selection on 
account of the suggestion, 81 per cent, changed \tfor the better (i. e., 
for one more nearly correct), only 19 per cent, changed for the 
worse. This is surprising, especially in the case of memory-com- 
parisons : one would expect that the interruption would have made 
the child nervous, and so hindered instead of helping his judgment 


(III) Suggestion in collective experiments. Taking four pupils at a 
time, they are allowed to see the model line and the chart of lines 
simultaneously, and then are asked to say, all at once, which line is 
equal to the model. Generally they do not all answer together, and 
the slow ones come under the suggestion of the quicker ones. In 
such cases there is a surprising uniformity among the younger chil- 
dren, the older pupils being more independent in their answers. 
Yet in all the grades there is a great susceptibility to this sort of 
suggestion. The percentage of correct answers was somewhat 
higher, when taken in this collective way, than when taken individ- 
ually (34 per cent, to 23 per cent.). 

A Preliminary Study of Motor Ability. J. A. HANCOCK, Pedagogical 
Seminary, Oct., 1894. 

This study by Mr. Hancock well deserves the careful study of 
all interested in child education. A large number of school chil- 
dren from five to seven years of age were tested in various ways to 
discover the amount of muscular control they possessed. For full 
description of the tests and apparatus and detailed statements of the 
results the original article must be consulted. The results can be 
stated here only partially and in a general way, e. g. : 

I. A child cannot stand so still as a man. Men swayed, on the 
average, 3.5 cm. in the anterio-posterior direction and 2 cm. later- 
ally. Boys of six years swayed 5.1 cm. by 4.3 cm. 

II. A child cannot hold his hand so still as a man. Men moved 
their hands on the average .242 cm. by .752 cm. ; boys of six moved 
theirs 1.191 cm. by 4.258 cm. 

III. A child cannot hold his attention upon any subject so 
steadily as a man. Some of these experiments, which required sus- 
tained attention for one minute, could not be carried out in the case 
of the children. 

IV. Control of the arm is far greater in men than in children. 
With the former the * Trenograph ' registered an average movement 
of .0975 cm.; with the latter of .396 cm. 

V. The child cannot tap so rapidly as the adult. The rate for 
the child of 16 years is five times as great as for one of six years. 

VI. The order of control is from fundamental to accessory mus- 
cles (/. <?., larger muscles come under control earlier than smaller). 
Fine, complicated movements are difficult for the child. 

VII. The prolonged effort to keep quiet produces in children 
strong symptoms of nervous irritation. 


VIII. "Generally the girl, at the same age, is steadier than the 

IX. "Children in normal healthy growth show a lack of coor- 
dination and control paralleled only by ataxic, choreic and paralytic 
patients." F. TRACY. 



On the Inadequacy of the Cellular Theory of Development and on the Early 
Development of Nerves, particularly the Third Nerve, and of the 
Sympathetic in Elasmobranchii. ADAM SEDGWICK. The Quarterly 
Journal of Microscopical Science, N. S., No. 145, November, 

During the past decade the protest has been coming from many 
quarters and with increasing strength against certain crude notions 
which, as accessories, have attached themselves to the cell doctrine. 
Our author points out the condition of affairs, and summarises 
the usual training in these dogmas with telling effect. He then pro- 
ceeds to illustrate the darkness of this biological age by several ex- 
amples. During his various studies, especially those on Peripatus, 
he has been struck by the fact that in many cases tissues refused to 
break up into cells or cell layers. "It would appear," he says, 
" that in Peripatus the cells of the adults in so far as they are dis- 
tinct and sharply marked off structures, are not, as appears to be 
generally the case, present in the earliest embryonic stages, but are 
gradually evolved as development proceeds. In other words, the 
cell theory, if it implies that the adult cells are derived from em- 
bryonic cells which have been directly produced by the division of 
the ovicell, does not apply to the embryos of Peripatus." For further 
illustration Sedgwick then takes up the so-called mesenchyme tissue 
of Elasmobranch embryos; the origin of nerve trunks and the 
fate of the neural crest. 

The ideas fundamental to the view urged by our author are set 
forth in what is stated concerning nerve cells. According to this 
hypothesis nerve fibres are present before the nuclei or cell bodies 
appear. The principal function of the neural crest, so far as it takes 
part in forming the nervous system, is to produce nuclei which ulti- 
mately attach themselves at various points to this reticulum from 
which the fibres are formed by condensation. The details need not 
be given, for it is at once evident how very widely such a view dif- 
fers from the one current, and according to which the nervous sys- 
tem takes origin from a series of spherical cells which later produce 


the fibres as outgrowths. This new explanation certainly deals with 
but a fraction of the facts. Most anatomists are ready to admit that 
in the matter of cell formation as in other life processes there are 
wide variations, all the way from distinctly marked cell elements as 
disconnected as blood corpuscles through forms incompletely sepa- 
rated, to those in which nuclei appear scattered in a poorly divided 
enclosing mass. That any one of these arrangements should be 
chosen as representing the 'whole truth' and the others 'reduced' 
to it is more likely to hamper than to enlarge knowledge. It is psy- 
chologically interesting that we glory in the thought of transfor- 
mation and genetic evolution, yet dominated by the notion of types 
and the mistaken idea that profound conceptions must be capable of 
simple expression, in the same breath utter a partial hypothesis 
which is warranted complete, and thereupon proceed to 'whip in' 
the non-conforming facts. There is but one excuse for this, namely, 
that each hypothesis must be pushed in every direction in order to 
demonstrate its truth or falsity, but we rely on our colleagues to ex- 
ercise good judgment in the process and not mislead us, for grave 
responsibilities attach even to the exercise of the scientific imagin- 

A description of the cerebral convolutions of the Chimpanzee known as 
" Sally" j with notes on the convolutions of other Chimpanzees and of 
two Orangs. W. BENHAM. The Quarterly Journal of Micro- 
scopical Science, N. S., No. 145, November, 1894. Plates 711. 

Chimpanzee brains differ among themselves and the zoologists 
hint at two or even three species of this animal. The individual 
'Sally' who lived eight years at the Zoological Gardens in London 
has been referred by Beddard to the species Troglodytes calvus. The 
brain from this case is in some respects unsimian in its conformation. 

In the majority of cases the chimpanzee brain possesses an occipital 
operculum, a distinctly simian feature. This was quite absent in the 
case of Sally. Further the demarkation of the insula and the 
branches at the anterior end of the Sylvian fissure were more than 
usually evident. Thus this specimen serves to diminish in various 
important characters the differences in form between the brain of 
man and of the chimpanzee as generally described. The accom- 
panying plates are excellent. 

The two other chimpanzee brains most similar to that of 'Sally' 
have been described by Broca and by Miiller respectively. Both the 
latter brains were from young males, the species not having been 
exactly recorded. Hence there is no positive evidence that this type 


of brain is characteristic of the species calvus, but at the same time 
it is not to be correlated with either age or sex. 

Amusie (Musikalische Aphasie.) J. G. EDGREN. Deutsche Zeitschrift 
ftir Nervenheilkunde, B. VI. H. 1-2. December, 1894. 

The perception and expression of musical sounds and symbols 
can be shown to be quite parallel to that for the sounds and symbols 
of ordinary speech. Beyond the musical faculty comes gesture lan- 
guage, which is a form of expression even more general than music. 
It has occurred to Ballet to picture the three brain areas concerned, 
as three concentric circles, of which that representing verbal speech 
should be the smallest and that for the emotional gesture language, 
the largest; the musical faculty falling between the two. Against 
such a scheme there are many important objections; but it serves to 
emphasize the fact that in any one instance the anatomical bases for 
the reactions are not identical with those in the others, although 
several structures may be used in common. In the study of aphasia, 
the disturbance in the musical faculty has been neither generally 
tested nor recorded in detail. E. is able to find in the literature, 
which he summarizes with great skill, a number of cases of aphasia 
without amusia; another group in which they are combined, and a 
third group, in which the amusia in one form or another, is alone 

The impulse to his study of this subject was a case of amusia in 
which both the clinical history and record of the autopsy were at 
hand, and in which the brain lesion in the left hemsiphere was a 
destruction of the anterior two thirds of the first temporal, and the 
anterior half of the second temporal gyrus, together with destruc- 
tion in the right hemisphere of the middle and posterior portions 
of the first temporal gyrus, and the ventral edge of the inferior 
parietal lobule along the Sylvian fissure. Both lesions are shown in 

In general the author concludes that the musical faculty like that 
of speech can be disturbed by lesions of the brain. The different 
forms of amusia are comparable with the different forms of aphasia. 
These are clinically distinct, and while the analogous forms of 
aphasia and amusia may occur together, they are not necessarily 
associated. There appears also to be a distinct anatomical basis for 
the forms of amusia as contrasted with those for aphasia and for 
that form of amusia designated as note-deafness (his own case), there 
is some reason to locate the cortical centre in the first and second 
temporal gyri of the left hemisphere, somewhat in front of the 
region, injury to which causes word deafness. 


Recherches microscopiche e sperimentali su git effetti delta Tiroidectomia. 
F. CAPOBIANCO. Internationale Monatschrift fiir Anatomic und 
Physiologic, Band XI-H., II and XII, 1894. 

There is often a tendency to overlook the importance of nutritive 
conditions in modifying the reactions of the nervous system. It has 
been shown, however, that there exists a close connection between 
the thyroid body and the central nervous system. On the patho- 
logical side the various forms of goitre, dependent on changes in the 
gland, and associated with disturbance of the nervous functions, give 
still further support to this idea, and Foster remarks in his text-book 
of physiology that the senescence of the nervous system is probably 
involved in the early atrophy of the thymus. 

The work of Capobianco touches two points; the general effect 
of the removal of this gland from dogs and rabbits, and the changes 
which at the same time occur in the nervous system. As a result of 
the total extirpation of the thyroid gland, dogs and rabbits always 
die within four weeks, the average life of the rabbits being longer 
than that of the dogs. 

Histological examination of the nervous system, central and 
peripheral, showed distinct pathological changes in cell-bodies and 
in the fibres together with alterations in the blood-vessels. In 
dogs, the entire central system is involved, while in the rabbits it is 
the bulb which is most affected. 

The nature of the histological changes is that of an atrophy of 
both cell-bodies and fibres, while in some cases the cell-bodies show 
a granular disintegration and extreme vacuolization. The plates 
illustrating these changes are very striking and one is led to speculate 
on how far slight variations in the activity of this gland may initiate 
in the central system of a normal person, such changes as are here 
to be seen in an exaggerated form. H. H. D. 



Beitrdge zur Lehre von der Klangwahrnehmung. L. HERMANN. Pflii- 

ger's Arch., LVI, 10, n, 12. Pp. 467-499. 
Phonophotographische Mittheilungen. V. Die Curven der Consonanten. 

L. HERMANN and FR. MATTHIAS. Phonophotographische Un- 

tersuchungen. VI. Nachtrag zur Untersuchung der Vocalcurven. 


Archiv., LVIII, 5 and 6. Pp. 255-279. 
A Study of the Sense of Equilibrium in Fishes. S. LEE. Part II. 

Journ. of Physiol., Vol. XVII, Nos. 3 and 4. 


On the ground of his well-known experiments with the wave- 
siren, A. Konig questioned Helmholtz's conclusion that clangs 
which differ only in the phases of their components are identical 
for our hearing. Hermann points out that experiments on the 
wave-siren are themselves questionable, from the fact that on this 
instrument difference of phase may result in similar sounds from 
clangs which are fundamentally different in the order of their over- 
tones. Reversing the curve of a clang as given in a phonograph, 
either along the axis of abscissas or of ordinate, changes the phases 
of the components but not the sound. 

To the resultant sounds which are already known to arise from 
a combination of tones, Hermann would add what he calls a Mittel- 
ton. This tone arises from the actual resultant vibrations impressed 
on the conducting medium by the components of a clang. In the 
case of two component tones of the rates of vibration m : n, the 
number of vibrations of this ' median tone ' within a beat-period 

, j , m -r- n 

would be 7 : r-. 

2 (m n) 

From experiments on toothed disks, in which the phase of a tone- 
was rapidly renewed, Hermann concludes that change of phase 
itself produces tones which may be and probably are the Tartarian 
tones. The Tartarian tone, therefore, is the intermittent tone 
from the medial tone. The article concludes with certain hypotheti- 
cal additions to Helmholtz's resonance theory of tone sensations 
required to explain intermittent and beat tones. As regards sim- 
plicity, however, it is better to assume the direct excitability of the 
auditory nerve than to add a new series of epicyles to the resonance 

In getting consonant curves, Hermann found it necessary to mul- 
tiply the motion of the phonograph, firstly, by an additional lever, 
secondly, by a ray of light reflected from the second lever. The 
motions of this ray of light were photographed. The entire 'plant* 
of apparatus is extremely complicated and delicate. The present 
communication gives the curves for Z. 

Applying the above apparatus to vowel sounds, Hermann ob- 
tained curves five (5) centimeters high. The curves confirmed his 
views published in former numbers of the Archiv, in regard to the 
fixed form of the characteristic vowel tone, 

Dr. Lee's article is in continuation of his study on equilibrium 
published in Vol. XV. of the Journal of Physiology. 

The chief find in the present article is that by stimulating the 
auditory nerve of the common dog-fish (galmus canis),, the resulting 


movements of the eyes and fins is the algebraic sum of the move- 
ments which arise from eliminating the ampullae branches separately. 


Recherches sur la me'moire affective. TH. RIBOT. Revue Philoso- 

phique, XXXVIII, 376-401. 

Affective Attention. E. B. TITCHENER. Philos. Rev., Ill, 429-33. 
Affective Memory. E. B. TITCHENER. Philos. Rev., IV, 65-76. 

M. Ribot attempts to show that pleasures, pains and emotions, 
as well as olfactory, gustatory and organic sensations generally, are 
not merely rememberable in an intellectual way as facts that have 
been experienced, but that they may themselves, in certain cases, be 
imaginatively reproduced. His conclusion is based on answers to 
questions received from some sixty persons, a goodly number of 
whom profess ability to revive, with varying precision and vividness, 
states of feeling in the manner indicated. Mr. Titchener disputes 
the interpretation. He does not deny that the recollection of exhil- 
arating sport may be pleasant or that of a whipping painful, that a 
tooth may be made to ache again by suggestion of the former tor- 
ment, or that the memory of an insult may excite anger. What he 
denies in all such cases and it is on such cases that M. Ribot sup- 
ports his contention is that the affection thus aroused is itself a 
revival of the original affection, and not rather a real affection giv- 
ing tone to or a real emotion prompted by an ideal object. Seizing 
on the implied admission that ' revived ' affection always attaches 
to an ideational content, he urges that in that case there is no proof 
of revival of affection at all; it is a question, not of reproduction 
versus production, but of production by this stimulus rather than by 
that. It might be replied that the same is true of every sensational 
experience that imagination represents. The * reproduction ' is in 
fact a production, a new reality brought about by the action of a 
stimulus on a disposition to function, attached by association to ele- 
ments other than those which attention emphasizes after the recall, 
and only identical with the original experience as being the same in 
kind. But the objection lies deeper. The real question, as Mr. 
Titchener conceives it, is whether pain, pleasure and emotion are 
possible objects of attention at all. It is because he believes that they 
are not a point argued in the earlier article that he holds that 
they cannot be singled out and identified in imagination. What can 
be attended to are the sense-contents. These, however, are condi- 


tions, not constituents, of the affectional element, and the denial 
of our ability to imagine the latter as distinct from really experi- 
encing it as present felt qualification of the represented content 
appears to the author highly important as a matter of psychological 

Certainly, as a matter of pure introspection, it would seem im- 
possible for the attention to fasten on any content corresponding to 
the abstractions 'pleasure-pain' or 'psychic attitude.' If, as Mr. 
Titchener maintains, a feeling is * properly analyzed into sense-sub- 
strate and affection,' nothing can be discovered among the objects 
of direct consciousness corresponding to the latter. On the other 
hand we can attend, as Mr. Titchener allows, to our concrete feel- 
ings. A toothache, a state of grief or terror, can be as distinctly 
felt as a patch of red color or a movement in the joints. And if 
felt, then represented as felt, with something, no doubt, of the 
repercussion of the original excitement. Without this the object 
represented is not really the same, and the experience is remem- 
bered much as a color is remembered which is not visualized ; we 
know, that is, its name, perhaps some of its concomitants. Apart 
from these experiences, there is nothing in pleasure, pain and emo- 
tion for psychology to deal with : they are mere names which 
express, not psychological experience, but the practical value of the 
experiences which they qualify. 



Zur Beurtheilung der zusammengesetzten Reaclionen. W. WUNDT. 

Philos. Stud., X, 485-498. 1894. 
Beobachtungen bei zusammengesetzten Reactionen. Zwei briefliche Mittheil- 

ungen an den Herausgeber. E. KRAEPELIN und JULIUS MERKEL. 

Philos. Stud., X, 499-506. 1894. 
Simple Reactions. E. B. TITCHENER. Mind, N. S., 13, 74-81. Jan., 

Two Points in Reaction-time Experimentation. R. WATANABE. Am. 
Journ. of Psychol., VI, 408-512. June, 1894. 

The articles in the Philosophische Studien call attention to an as- 
pect of experimental psychology sometimes overlooked namely, 
the importance of the knowledge that may be derived from intro- 
spection in the course of psychological experiments. Thus Prof. 
Wundt states explicitly that his theory of the development of the 
will, and of its relation to * apperception,' had its origin in observa- 
tions made during the course of experiments on reaction-time. He 


^concludes his discussion by saying that the times measured have 
only an incidental interest the real value of such experiments lies 
in the fact that they subject mental processes to fixed conditions, 
.and thus make possible an exact analysis by introspection. While 
much can be said for this point of view, the present articles do not 
give conclusive testimony in its favor, as they are controversial, the 
introspective evidence of some observers contradicting that of 

Wundt argues for the interpretation of sensory and motor reac- 
tions, 'perception-times,' 'discrimination-times,' 'choice-times,' and 
' association-times ' already given in detail in the fourth edition of 
the Physiologische Psychologic. Wundt is regarded as the great repre- 
sentative of the experimental and scientific method in psychology 
and deservedly so but he does not readily adapt himself to the 
scientific attitude that weighs evidence and waits for evidence. He 
considers it possible and desirable to pass final judgment on every 
question great and small. This he does with much learning and 
ability, but often without proper perspective. He sees the world as 
a panorama with himself in the centre. He forgets that a pano- 
rama, constructed from fragmentary data, holds only for the indi- 
vidual who constructs it also that there is no centre of infinite 

The experiments on sensory and motor reactions do not seem to 
the present writer nearly so important as they do to Wundt, nor can 
he admit Wundt's interpretation of the facts. When Wundt informs 
us that "zu Versuchen iiber den zeitlichen Verlauf psychischer Vor- 
gange ist nun von vornherein nur ein Beobachter fahig, der im 
stande ist, willkurlich zwischen diesen beiden Reactionsformen zu 
wechseln," he is proposing an esoteric psychology, not a scientific 
method. Wundt insists that the ' subject ' in psychological meas- 
urements must always be a skilled psychologist. Yet he writes on 
Thierseele ! The investigator should, indeed, be a skilled psycholo- 
gist, able to interpret the facts, but a psychologist with a theory to 
prove is not a good observer. 

Every one who wishes to make psycho-physical time-measure- 
ments should read the article by Wundt and the letters in the same 
number of the Studien by Prof. Kraepelin and Dr. Merkel not in 
order to accept as a matter of course the observations given but in 
order to realize the need of observing and recording the changes in 
consciousness accompanying such experiments. 

Prof. Titchener's discussion of sensory and motor reactions in 
Mind is more careful and judicial than is Wundt's. He sums up the 


evidence of ten researches and finds six favorable to the distinction! 
and four more or less negative. Prof. Baldwin, however, seems ta 
be counted on the wrong side, as he finds (in a publication, 
later than the one quoted) the nature of the difference to 
vary with the observer; and Prof. Titchener himself has found 
the distinction in less than half the cases he has tested. We 
may conclude that the normal reaction-time of an observer can often 
be lengthened by directing him to fix his attention on the sense- 
impression, but it does not seem so evident that it can be shortened 
by directing him to fix his attention on the movement. The reac- 
tion-time is naturally lengthened and made more irregular when its 
automatic nature is disturbed ; and from the experiments made in 
the Leipzig laboratory, it would seem that attending exclusively to 
the sense-impression is more disturbing than attending exclusively 
to the movement. In daily life, however, the contrary holds ; 
actions are executed more automatically when the attention is di- 
rected to the sense-impression thus in throwing, catching or strik- 
ing a ball, the more completely one can attend to the ball and forget 
the movement, the more efficient and quick is the movement. In- 
deed, in reaction-time experiments, when the stimulus is so strong 
as to compel the attention (as with painful electric shocks), the 
reaction-time is very short, which would seem conclusive against the 
extreme views of Lange and Wundt. That the difference between 
the times of sensory and motor reactions gives the time required to 
perceive the stimulus (Wundt and also Titchener in his earlier paper, 
jPhilos. Stud., VIII.), does not seem admissible to the present writer. 
In the short paper by Prof. Titchener and Mr. Watanabe, atten- 
tion is again called to the desirability of treating reaction-time 
experiments from the point of view of psychology. The observer's 
impression regarding the nature of the reaction is recorded. The 
writers conclude that in the case of sensory reactions introspection 
affords an adequate control, but is less trustworthy in the case of 
muscular reactions. J. McK. C. 

Glaube und Urtheil. W. JERUSALEM. Vierteljahsschirft fur wissen- 

schaftliche Philosophic. Vol. XVII, pp. 162-195. 
Grundzuge der Logik. T. LIPPS. Hamburg u. Leipzig: Voss. 
Principii di Logica Reale. N. R. D' ALFONSO. Rome: 1894. 
Appearance and Reality (passim). F. H. BRADLEY. 
The Test of Belief. J. P. GORDY. Philosophical Review, May, 

1894, 257. 

Few states of consciousness, or psychoses, whether viewed 
from the psychological or from the epistemological standpoint, are 


more interesting or more important than those indicated by the 
words 'judgment' and 'belief.' If it be true that the whole essence 
of the thinking process is involved in the formation and expression 
of judgments; that judgment is not so much a mere occurrence in 
the mind as an activity of the mind; that the test of a genuine act 
of judgment is the presence in it of belief; and that in all judgment 
there is thus a * trans-psychosial ' reference, a reference, that is, to 
reality beyond the factual sphere of the psychosis as such: if all 
this and much more that we "are told of judgment and belief, be 
true, then it would scarcely be too much to say that a good means 
of testing the psychological and even the epistemological position of 
any writer would be to ask "What is his doctrine of ' belief and of 
'judgment'?" We summarize a few recent utterances bearing upon 
these subjects: 

Herr Jerusalem calls attention to the fact that in recent times 
the view has often found expression that the essential characteristic 
of the act of judgment is the consciousness of its objective validity, 
called by the English belief and by some German psychologist Aner- 
kennung. This view has been urged especially by J. S. Mill (Notes, 
on Jas. Mill's Analysis, I, p. 342, and Exam, of Ham. Philos., p. 405) 
and by Brentano (Psychol. vom empir. Standpunkte, I, pp. 269 f.).. 
Attention is also called to the important discussions of belief by 
James (II, 282 ff) and Baldwin (II, ch. 7 and Mind, N. S., I, 403); 
the last named has handled in a very noteworthy manner the ques- 
tion of the relation of belief, feeling and judgment. The trans- 
psychosial reference inherent in every judgment and characterizing 
it as something more than a mere psychosis, a mere affection of 
consciousness, was recognized even by the ancients, e. g., by Plato 
(Theat., 184-187) and the Stoics (Cicero, De Fato, 19, 43). 
Descartes and Spinoza emphasized the presence of a conative ele- 
ment in judgment and in belief; with them judgment is predom- 
inantly an assent of the will, an affirmation. The history of the 
problem of judgment shows that it has been handled either in a one- 
sidedly psychological or in a one-sidedly grammatico-logical manner.. 
Baldwin has rightly insisted that a complete theory of judgment 
can only be attained when all the constituent factors, or elements, 
entering into the act are given full recognition. 

Herr Jerusalem thinks that the whole subject of judgment needs 
to be investigated anew, and especially does the relation of belief 
to judgment need to be made clear. 

Judgment is, he finds, an activity by which the complex of sen- 
sation, or manifold of sense, is discriminated and combined, moulded 


and articulated, and objectified, i. e., regarded as an independent 
unitary being with powers. Consciousness in judging conceives the 
given manifold or complex as the activity of a thing. Judgment is 
essentially ' ein Gliedern und Gestalten.' An injection of an element 
of willing into the presentative complex is the most important factor 
in an act of judgment. In fact, in judgment the given content of 
sense presentative content is formed or moulded by a process 
analogous to the activities of our own will, and objectified or con- 
ceived as an activity or quality of a thing. In this objectification 
we find the germs out of which belief and the conception of truth 
later develop. This objectification being present implicitly in 
sense-perception, we may say that even in perceiving we judge. 

What now is the relation of judgment to truth ? Truth, as al- 
ready said, is implicit in the objective reference characteristic of all 
judgment. Mill is right in saying that to judge and to regard the 
judgment as true are identical. This, at any rate, is true of original 
and naive judgments. The full consciousness of truth is, however, only 
reached when by experience we are taught the possibility of error. 
The truth of a judgment is the relation between the judgment as a 
psychological fact and the judged event. We denote this relation 
by word the * accordance' (Entsprecheii). The idea of truth first arises by 
reflecting on this relation. Such reflection, however, only becomes 
possible when we discover that wrong interpretations, mistakes, 
occur. In defending the meaning contained in a judgment against 
possible assaults the consciousness of truth emerges. The con- 
ception, therefore, of truth presupposes experience of error. Truth 
and error both belong properly to the sphere of judgment. Brad- 
ley's distinction between an ' idea as a fact ' and an ' idea as a 
meaning,' more properly holds of judgments than of concepts. We 
can, that is, distinguish between a judgment as state of conscious- 
ness and a judgment as having a 'meaning '; and truth is the rela- 
tion of these two sides of the judgment to each other. Indeed 
only in a system recognizing a world of extra-mental realities, in- 
dependent of judgments and to which they may conform or not, is 
truth possible; that is, truth presupposes psychoses and a trans- 
psychosial world of realities; deny either and the merely factual, 
not truth, is all that is left. The criteria of truth are found in the 
fulfilment of predictions and the agreement with other thinkers. 

What now is the nature of belief, and what is its relation to 
judgment ? An element of belief is implicit in the act of judgment; 
but this embryonic belief is to be carefully distinguished from belief 
in the higher sense. Belief as a clearly experienced state of con- 


sciousness is the holding as true of a judgment and therefore it pre- 
supposes judgment and the concept of truth. Yet the truth of a 
judgment is in no way a condition of belief; untrue judgments are 
believed as well as true ones. The English psychologists are right 
in finding in feeling the source and essence, psychologically, of 
belief. The opposite of belief is not disbelief but doubt, which is 
generally and rightly regarded as feeling; belief, therefore, is pre- 
dominantly feeling. 'Predominantly,' for all psychic facts all 
really experienced psychoses consist, without exception, of more 
than a single factor, comprise always intellectual, conative, and 
affective elements. They are named and classified according to the 
predominant factor, and in the case of belief, this is feeling. Belief, 
as here used, is not to be contrasted with knowledge; it is used in 
the general sense of 'holding as true.' What calls forth this feeling 
which attaches itself to a judgment and turns it into one held as 
true ? The answer is, that belief is the feeling of harmony, or agree- 
ment with the previous content of my consciousness; the feeling of 
the accordance of a judgment with my conceptions of the world. 
Just as doubt arises from the conflict of a judgment with my pre- 
vious thoughts, so the feeling of belief springs from their harmony. 

Herr Jerusalem's paper is a very meritorious one and will repay 

Prof. Lipps also emphasizes the objective, or 'trans-psychosial,' 
reference in all judgment. Judgment is the consciousness of the 
objective necessity of a relation, or union, of the objects of con- 
sciousness. The logical doctrine that judgment states only what is 
true or false, is sound. Truth is synonymous with real knowledge. 
The distinction is made fundamental for logic between real and 
formal judgments. In a formal judgment the objective necessity is 
an unconditional necessity prevailing among notions; in a material 
judgment the objective necessity is that of relating, to an object of 
consciousness thought as objectively real and so far as it is thus 
thought, another also thought as objectively real. The objectively 
valid judgment is the special act of real knowledge. A judgment is 
objectively valid when the consciousness of the objective necessity 
perdures, without contradiction, against all possible experience and 
objectively necessary union of the objects of experience. Objective- 
ly valid judgments, hence knowledge, arise in the struggle and inter- 
action of the proximate subjectively valid judgments. Every judg- 
ment is subjectively valid in so far as it is made. 

The universal validity, or validity for all, follows from the ob- 
jective validity, on the assumption of similarity in the thinking 


processes of all thinking beings. That is, the claim to universal 
validity of a judgment lies in the conviction, that, on account of the 
similarity of all minds, all must reach like judgments, in so far as 
they have the same experiences and relate them by thought. Prof. 
Lipps' discussion is, from the logical standpoint, singularly fresh 
and helpful. 

Signor D' Alfonso in his little treatise on concrete logic has some 
remarks of interest on judgment (considerazioni sul giudtzio) . All think- 
ing and reasoning are essentially judging; in judgment is involved 
the whole of the thinking process. Every judgment implies in one 
and the same act a synthesis and an analysis; these are the two 
sides of every judgment. Every so-called negative judgment can 
be transformed into a positive one. When we assert that a given 
body is not solid we implicit} 7 assert that it is liquid or gaseous. 
Negation is, it would seem therefore, a judgment on a judgment 
and thus presupposes an affirmative judgment. Psychologically 
affirmation is prior to negation in fact all judgments are, psycholog- 
ically, affirmative. That is, as concrete mental processes there is no 
distinction between positive and negative judgments; the attitude of 
mind in up and down negation being the same as in affirmation. It 
is, therefore, the non-licet attitude of mind, the refusal to (logically) 
affirm or deny, which is psychologically the opposite of judgment. 

Mr. Bradley is more interested in the epistemological and meta- 
physical aspects of judgment and belief than in the purely psycho- 
logical. But his book is full of keen psychological analyses and 
deserves, as was made evident by Prof. Baldwin in a late number 
of this REVIEW, the attention of students of psychology. Those 
acquainted with Mr. Bradley's Principles of Logic, will not be sur- 
prised to find that in the more recent work he has a good deal to 
say of judgment. We extract a few pregnant statements : In 
judgment, according to Mr. Bradley, we find thought in its com- 
pleted form. Judgment is the differentiation of a complex whole, 
and hence always is analysis and synthesis in one. It separates an 
element from, and restores it to, the concrete basis. And here 
obviously the synthesis effected is a re-union of the distinguished, 
and implies the separation, which, though it is over-ridden, is never 
unmade. The predicate is a content which has been made loose 
from its own immediate existence and is used in divorce from that 

In every judgment there is in the subject an aspect of existence 
which is absent from the bare predicate. No one ever means to 
assert about anything but reality, or to do anything but qualify a 


"that' by a 'what.' Judgment adds an adjective to reality. In 
every judgment the genuine subject is reality, which goes beyond 
the predicate and of which the predicate is an adjective. The pre- 
dicate, on the other hand, is a mere 'what,' a mere feature of con- 
tent, which is used to qualify the 'that' of the subject. In every 
judgment, then, we find an aspect of existence, absent from the 
predicate but present in the subject, and in the synthesis of these 
aspects we have got the essence of judgment. 

Prof. Gordy's paper is a fitting companion-piece to Herr Jerus- 
alem's. It is so full of matter that it is difficult to condense it and 
yet do it justice. 

The distinction between the pure intellect seeing and the practical 
intellect trusting, or between knowledge and belief, Prof. Gordy 
considers of fundamental importance. Belief of any kind consists, 
"he declares, of two factors: what, with Baldwin, we may call the 
reality-feeling, plus the 'consciousness of the personal indorsement 
of reality.' One of these elements or constituents of belief the 
reality-feeliug we may have without the other the personal indorse- 
ment of the reality; the saying to one's self that the reality- feeling is 
true. "Sitting in a car at a depot, waiting for my train to start, I 
seem to see the motion of my train when another train moves slowly 
by. In other words, the reality feeling attaches itself to the image 
or idea of my train in motion. But when I look at the wheels of the 
moving train this reality feeling ceases to exist so long as I continue 
to look at them. I see or believe that the apparent motion of my 
train is due to the real motion of the other. The same kind of 
reality-feeling attaches itself to a new set of experiences. But as soon 
as I stop looking at the wheels, the old reality-feeling returns my 
train seems to move in spite of the fact that I know it does not. In 
other words, the reality-feeling, which alone distinguishes the ideas 
or images of memory from mere imagination, attaches itself to ex- 
periences which we know from other evidence do not represent real- 
ity." For further discussion of this point we are referred to ' Baldwin's 
able and very lucid treatment of the subject,' Feeling and Will, ch. 7. 

By a critical examination, containing much that is suggestive, of 
Prof. Bain's three postulates or assumptions underlying all material 
or inductive inferences, and of J. S. Mill's theory of induction, Prof. 
Gordy reaches the conclusion that in order to carry on the reason- 
ings of ordinary life as well as those of science, we must assume (i) 
the trustworthiness of memory within certain limits, (2) the uniform- 
ity of nature, and (3) that an hypothesis that explains a particular 
group of facts, and at the same time harmonizes with the rest of our 


beliefs, is true. We can give no reasons for such beliefs which 
would at all satisfy a cold, critical intellect, an intellect indifferent 
to consequences, an intellect that believes only in so far as it sees 
grounds for certainty or for probability. Now from the point of 
view of the pure intellect, the intellect seeing, not trusting, these 
beliefs have neither certainty nor probability; from the point of view 
of the practical intellect, the intellect yielding to the native instincts 
and unreasoned tendencies of the mind, they are not only probable 
but certain. From the point of view of knowledge, in a word, our 
beliefs are so many pure assumptions. 

Now we need a test of belief. By 'test of belief,' Prof. Gordy 
does not mean a test by means of which we can determine the truth 
of our beliefs, that would be a test of truth. He means a formula- 
tion of the marks or characteristics of the beliefs that we are obliged 
to assume without proof. Now we can say that, since we have 
accepted the trustworthiness of memory and the uniformity of nature 
and the proposition, 'an hypothesis that explains facts, and at the 
same time fits in with everything else that we believe is true,' we 
will accept any other proposition without further proof that has the 
same characteristics. What, then, are the characteristics of these 
beliefs ? The assumption of the trustworthiness of memory has 
two: (i) it is a belief that we have a natural tendency to make, /. e., 
when we begin to reflect we find ourselves making it; and (2) ex- 
perience does not deprive us of it. The second characteristic the 
confirmation of experience must be taken in a negative sense only. 
Of positive verification of the trustworthiness of memory, we have 
none. The thesis which Prof. Gordy maintains, then, with reference 
to the trustworthiness of memory is this: What we know on the 
authority of what we call memory has no other guarantee than a 
reality-feeling, a feeling which sometimes attaches itself to ex- 
periences that we know do not represent realities, but which we 
accept in the case of memory, simply because it is not contradicted by 
other experiences. 

The characteristics of our belief in the uniformity of nature are 
the same; we have a natural tendency to make it, and our experience 
is not inconsistent with it. What again, are the characteristics of 
the third assumption : An hypothesis is true that explains the facts, 
and that takes its place easily and naturally among our other beliefs. 
They are the same. These, then, are the characteristics of the 
three assumptions (beliefs), one of which underlies all reasoning 
whatever, and all of which underlie the reasoning of inductive 
science and everyday life. 


Necessary truth, then, aside truth, that is, whose contradictories 
are 'absurd, inconceivable, impossible,' whatever we are asked to 
believe, ought to be either an ultimate belief, *. e., a belief having 
the characteristics of being assumed through a natural tendency, 
and of not being interfered with by experience, or an hypothesis 
that explains all the pertinent facts, and takes its place easily and 
naturally among our other beliefs. The broader the base of ex- 
perience upon which beliefs, in the negative sense explained, rest, 
the greater their credibility. If one man accepts one hypothesis 
because it explains all the facts he knows, and another man a differ- 
ent hypothesis because it explains, not only the facts known to the 
first man, but others equally certain, the last man's hypothesis is 
the more credible, although we can never say that it, in turn, may 
not have to give place to another. 

Such a theory, it may be urged, opens the door to unbounded 
credulity. Not so, says Prof. Gordy, for the very prominence which 
it gives to the fact that inductive reasoning is only a process of 
finding hypotheses to explain facts, cannot but enforce the necessity 
of caution on the part of one who accepts it. Again, it may be 
urged, that its practical outcome is philosophical skepticism. Not 
so, for he only can be charged with philosophical skepticism 
who holds that reason is hopelessly at war with itself; who holds 
that, no matter upon what subject or in what direction he tries his 
reason, it leads him into an inextricable tangle of inconsistencies 
and contradictions. With the common-sense philosophy, the theory 
insists that the attempt of the empiricist to find positive verification 
in experience for the first principles of science cannot succeed; with 
empiricism, it insists that the attempt of the common-sense phil- 
osophy to establish definite philosophical principles must end in 
failure. Finally, the theory aims to give full recognition to the 
important, nay, the decisive, part which the emotional and voli- 
tional side of our natures play in shaping our beliefs. 



Psychiatrie. TH. ZIEHEN. Berlin, Friedrich Wreden, 1894. Pp. 

The author has already made several contributions to physiologi- 
cal psychology and the present text-book on psychiatry is frankly 
written on psychological lines, as distinguished from clinical. Ziehen 
claims that the association psychology is entirely sufficient to explain 
all the facts of psychiatry and over one third of the book is given up 


to general psychology, and he discusses the disturbances of sensa- 
tion, of ideation and memory, of the intellectual feelings, of the 
association of ideas, of behaviour, and the accompanying somatic 
symptoms of the psychoses. The psychology is orthodox, albeit 
somewhat dry, but is on the whole satisfactory, and furnishes a good 
compendium of the perverted mental operations of mental disease. 
In his classification Ziehen makes but two grand subdivisions, 
psychoses without defect of intelligence and those with such defect. 
Under the first coming the simple psychoses, mania, melancholia, 
neurasthenia, stupor and paranoia, and the combined psychoses 
the insanities secondary to the above. Of the psychoses with defect 
of intelligence there are first the states of congenital defect, idiocy, 
imbecility and debility, and secondly the psychoses from acquired 
defects, the six forms of dementia, paralytic, senile, secondary after 
brain lesions, secondary after functional psychoses, epileptic and 
alcoholic. In this simplification of classification there are several 
important omissions. Delirium acutum is denied a place as a distinct 
clinical entity, against the opinion of the best alienists, and is only 
spoken of as occurring in acute hallucinatory paranoia and in general 
paralysis. Again, periodical and circular insanity are simply assigned 
places as varieties of mania and melancholia, and under the degener- 
ative psychoses. But it is in the field of Paranoia that recent Ger- 
man writers have especially run riot, and Ziehen adds greatly to the 
already existing confusion. The moment we depart from Krafft- 
Ebing's definition that paranoia is a chronic disease, showing itself 
exclusively in degenerate individuals, and frequently developing 
from the constitutional neuroses, and whose chief symptoms are 
[systematized] delusions, we are landed in inextricable confusion. 
Ziehen's acute hallucinatory paranoia terminating in recovery with- 
out mental defect in over 70 per cent, of all cases, is not * Verruck- 
theit,' and bracketing them together only tends to confusion and 
false ideas. Ziehen makes four forms of paranoia, the acute and 
chronic hallucinatory, and the acute and chronic simple paranoia. 
In his etiological summary of the psychoses the following etiological 
factors are credited with producing, besides many other psychoses, 
different forms of paranoia, as follows : Hereditary degeneration, three 
forms; trauma capitis, two forms; chronic alcoholism, five forms; 
puberty, three forms; senility, two forms; climacteric, two forms; 
puerperal state, two forms; lactation, two forms, acute febrile dis- 
eases, three forms [in reality confusional insanity]; epilepsy, two 
forms; hysteria, four forms; exhaustion, four forms. It would be 
hard to conceive of confusion worse confounded. Ziehen's simple 
chronic paranoia is the only one that fulfils the condition of a 


chronic primary disease with systematized delusions. When it is 
considered that Jean Jacques Rousseau, Ludwig of Bavaria and 
Guiteau are classical examples of paranoia in its proper and more 
restricted sense one sees the folly of speaking of a man suffering 
from a blow on the head, or from pneumonia or multiple neuritis, 
where mental disturbance develops, as being a paranoiac. 

Ziehen adopts the sound modern doctrine that in the immense 
majority of cases gynaecological treatment is entirely without in- 
fluence, while in other cases by setting up new irritations it is posi- 
tively harmful. 

Katatonia is admitted to a position as a clinical entity, but is 
given as of rare occurrence. 

The clinical descriptions are clear, and the ten photographs are 
remarkably successful in giving the physiognomy of the different 


JLes Mats intellectuels dans la mttancolie. G. DUMAS. Paris, Alcan, 

This little volume is worthy of more than casual notice. M. 
Dumas, a pupil of Ribot, belongs to the group of contemporary 
psychologists who commenced their study with philosophy and meta- 
physics, and then changing face, have gone over into medicine. 
MM. Janet and Marillier did the same. 

This study on melancholy is Dumas' thesis in medicine. One can 
not praise too highly the courage of those who, while already having 
degrees and titles as doctors of literature and professors in schools 
and colleges, yet devote themselves to undergraduate work in medi- 
cine. Their intellectual experience is peculiar. Instead of com- 
mencing the study of psychology with observation and fact, they 
have approached it from the side of the more abstract and metaphys- 
ical problems. They seem to put the chariot before the horse; and 
it becomes an interesting question what attitude this leads them to 
bring to the empirical study of medicine. Do they still remain 

Dumas' study relates to four women of the asylums of St. Anne 
and Salpe'triere in Paris, all afflicted with melancholy. He studies 
their mental state with their physical symptoms. He distinguishes 
four forms of the trouble: Melancholy with stupor, 'anxious' mel- 
ancholy, 'depressive,' and 'conscious' melancholy. The author 
occupies himself mainly with the last two kinds. 

His main method of study was by conversation with the patients, 
seeking to gain their confidence, questioning them of their griefs, 


endeavoring to reason with them and to reassure them. Evidently 
this is a more fruitful method than direct experiment since the field 
of mental disturbance is so wide. Yet the author felt the need of 
more than this bird's-eye view of his patients ' mental state and sought 
to study more exactly the rapidity of perception and memory, the^ 
naming of objects, and the localization of sounds, &c. His arrange- 
ments for this were a little inexact; for without careful arrangements 
for measuring intervals of fractions of a second no definite results can 
be obtained. The same may be said of the methods of studying physi- 
cal symptoms: the author is satisfied with stating what he saw : such 
as attitudes, changes of cordiac pressure (from 800 gr. to 500 gr., on 
a Verdin sphygmometer, &c. He himself says that he might have- 
given his results more exactness by plotting curves and giving trac- 
ings. Yet he concludes: "I am convinced, after many efforts, 
that the methods of psychophysics are not applicable to phenomena 
so complex as those I wish to study" (p. 142). But would it not 
have been better to publish his figures and tracings and then to show 
by a critical discussion of them why these exact methods are not 
applicable to these patients ? 

In the opinion of the author the ground of melancholy is not 
emotion, a psychological entity, but an organic state, a depression 
of the organism, a lack of nutrition. It is a predominant activity of 
the organs which produce the particular sensations contributing to 
the mental state of sadness, anxiety, depression. In this view he 
discusses the theories of James and Lange with just criticism. He 
explains from this point of view the infectious character of mel- 
ancholy, citing the general vital depression which follows an attack 
of influenza. "It may be objected," says he, "that organic depres- 
sion is produced some times as a consequence of mental trouble: the 
fact can not be denied, but it is far less frequent than we think." 
And he cites instances of the contrary (p. 100). 

We need not say that the author is right here, only we should 
advise him, if he would go deeper, to make his distinctions, 
more exact, /*. e., to show how physiological depression lies at the 
basis of melancholy. It seems probably true; but depression is a 
very vague word and the author finds depression present in a variety 
of diseases whose emotional tone is very different from one another, 
*. e., hysteria, dyspepsia, heart troubles, &c. Has not the particular 
organ affected in each case, some special importance ? Would it not 
be interesting to enquire into the particular organic derangement 
which is found in each of these troubles ? 

Although melancholy is, in the opinion of the author, con- 
sciousness of a state of the body, yet in certain instances it may 


.arise from intellectual conditions ; it may take its origin in an event 
which distresses, depresses, and finally enfeebles the patient. So also 
.melancholy which arises from an organic cause is always aggravated 
by the distress which results from it, so that the psychological phe- 
nomenon, be it cause or effect, always plays an important part in the 
development of the disease. There is a series of complex actions 
and reactions between the physical and the mental. 

The second question which the author studies is the nature of the 
intellectual changes which take place in melancholy. The principle 
features of this mental state, according to his short and summary 
descriptions, are i. The slowing of the mental flow and great mental 
impoverishment ; 2. Aboulia, or the incapacity to carry out an act 
conceived. Of this the author cites two examples. One of his pa- 
tients made careful preparations for suicide, but lacked courage at 
the critical moment ; another wished to write a letter but desisted 
from scruples of doubt. He explains it as a defect of idio-motor 
synthesis ; 3 The development of automatic acts sometimes very 
grave. One patient suddenly attempted suicide and had great 
trouble in recognizing herself as the perpetrator. This proves the 
act automatic. Indeed she thought the command came from a 
foreign will. In this connection the author studies the melancholy of 
Hamlet in whom he finds the signs which he thinks characteristic of 
melancholy; 4. The last mental sign of melancholy and the most im- 
portant is the lack of logic : a patient weeps from organic causes 
merely and without knowing why, or when the necessity arises of 
thinking of some old distress long since forgotten in the past. She 
nurses the thought of these miseries and comes to believe that they 
cause the present grief. 

In conclusion we may hope that the author will continue and 
deepen his study of these questions and give us more extended obser- 
vations in detail. As it is his little book is clear and attractive. 

Cliniques des maladies du systdme nerveux. J. M. CHARCOT. Tome II. 
Paris, Alcan, 1893. Pp. 482. 

For some time M. Charcot, like the true teacher that he was, as-' 
sociated his students with all his labors, and even allowed them to 
take his place in some of his clinical lectures, to give them oppor- 
tunities to explain, to all those who frequented the Salpe"triere, the 
questions studied by him. It is in this way that after preparing a 
study on great calculators, in co-operation with M. Charcot, I was 
requested by him to deliver a lecture at the Salpe"triere on memory 
for numbers. The present volume, prepared some months after the 


death of the eminent professor, has been written with the co-oper- 
ation of a great number of his pupils; only five or six of M. Charcot's 
own lectures are included in the volume. They bear on subjects 
that do not all equally concern psychology; but psychologists may 
read with profit the lecture on hysterical hemianaesthesia and toxic 
anaesthesia (p. 460), and with still more profit the one on retro- 
anterograde amnesia. Let us recall in a few works what this anes- 
thesia consists in. The question is of a patient who after a nervous 
shock and crisis had retrograde amnesia, and also because incapable 
of registering actual facts in memory. M. Charcot shows 
clearly that this amnesia is not real but apparent. The patient 
remembers very well the facts which she seems to forget, because 
she talks in her sleep of facts of which she has no idea in her waking 
state; and moreover in the hypnotic state she remembers all the 
incidents of the whole period since the nervous shock, (p. 266). 
This volume also contains equally interesting studies by Guinon and 
Blocq on states of somnambulism. 



The Philosophy of Mind. G. T. LADD. New York, Scribners, 1895. 

Pp. XIV + 414. $3- 
Elements of Ethics. J. H. HYSLOP. New York, Scribners, 1895. 

Pp. VII -f 470. $2.50 
Monism as Connecting Religion and Science. E. HAECKEL. London, 

Black; New York, Macmillan, 1894. Pp. VIII + 117. 
The Factors in Organic Evolution. D. S. JORDON. Boston, Ginn & 

Co., 1894. Pp. V+ 149. 
Comte, Mill and Spencer : An Outline of Philosophy. J. WATSON. 

Glasgow, Maclehose ; New York, Macmillan, 1895. Pp. XX -f- 

302. $1.75. 
Mental Development in the Child and the Race : Methods and Processes. 

J. M. BALDWIN. New York and London, Macmillan, 1895. 

Pp. XVII f 496. 

Amphioxus and the Ancestry of the Vertebrates. A. WILLEY. Colum- 
bia University Biological Series, II. New York and London, 

Macmillan, 1894, Pp. XIV + 316. 
Transactions of the Illinois Society for Child Study. Vol. I, No. i. 

Chicago and New York, Werner Co., 1895. Pp. 73 -f XLIII. 

50 cts. 
Imagination in Dreams'and their Study. F. GREENWOOD. London, 

John Lane ; New York, Macmillan, 1894. Pp. IX + 198. 


The Study of Ethics. A Syllabus. J. DEWEY. Ann Arbor, Register 

Publishing Co., 1894. Pp. 151. 
Elements of Psychology. Syllabus of Philosophy, I. J. H. HYSLOP. New 

York, Columbia College, 1895. Pp. 131. $i. 
Popular Scientific Lectures. E. MACK. Translated by T. J. Me- 

Cormack. Chicago, Open Court Co., 1895. Pp. 313. $i. 
The Psychology of Childhood. F. TRACY. Second ed. Boston, 

Heath, 1894. Pp. XIII -f 170. 
Twelfth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology (1890-91.) J. W. 

POWELL. Washington, Gov. Printing Office, 1894. Pp. 

XLVIII + 742. 
Logic. C. SIGWART. Trans, from second German edition by H. 

Dendy ; 2 vols. London, Sonnenshein ; New York, Macmil- 

lan, 1895. Pp. XII + 391 and VIII + 584. $5.50. 
Lehrbuch der Psychologie. W. VOLKMANN. Edited by C. S. Cor- 
nelius. Fourth ed., Bd. II. Cothen, Schulze, 1895. P P- 




We possess very few observations on our earliest recollections. 
I should like to make a series of observations in this subject. I 
shall be grateful to all persons who will send answers to any or all of 
the following questions : 

1. Age and usual occupation. 

2. Do you have good visual representations of object in general ; 
viz., can you form a visual image of an apple or of a lamp, etc. ? 

3. Do you have good auditory representations (of sounds), viz., 
have you auditory representations of the voices of your friends ? 

4. What is the earliest recollection of your childhood ? Please 
describe it as fully as possible. How clear is it, and what was your 
age when the fact recollected occurred ? 

5. Had this fact a particular importance in your life, and if so, in/ 
what way ? 

6. Has anyone ever related this fact to you, or do you remember 
it yourself ? 

7. Can you give any explanation of this recollection, and if so,. 

8. What is the second recollection of your childhood? How 
far apart are these two in time ? 

2l6 NOTES. 

9. Of what period of your life do you first have many recollec- 
tions without connecting them in the time series of your life ? How 
do they appear ; are they clear, are they visual or auditory, etc. ? 

10. From what period of your life do you begin to have recol- 
lections of the time series of your life ? 

11. Do you ever have recollections of your childhood in your 
dreams ? If so, what ? 

Please send the answers to these questions to Victor Henri, 
Leipzig (Germany), Johannis Alice 12. II. 


Mr. J. S. MacKensie, M.A., has been called to the chair in 
Philosophy in University College, Cardiff. 

The Annde psychologique, of which announcement was made in an 
earlier number of this REVIEW, will be issued in March, 1895. The 
subscription price (7 fr., instead of 5 fr., as previously announced) 
may be sent directly to M. Alf. Binet, 29 Rue Madame, Paris, France. 

We have received Bd. I, Heft i, of a new serial publication, 
edited by Prof. E. Krapelin, of the University of Heidelberg, entitled 
Psychologische Arbeiten (Leipzig, Engelmann, 5 M.) 

The attention of readers of the REVIEW is called to the special 
announcements made by the editors on the second cover-page of this 

VOL. II. No. 3. MAY, 1895, 




Harvard University. 

In calling these few notes a Preliminary Report, I have 
deliberately wished to ask for all the indulgence which the 
phrase itself can properly invite. I have none but tentative 
considerations to present. I mean to tell something of the 
mere plan and programme of a research which I have ven- 
tured to begin, but which I cannot hope ever rightly to 
finish, concerning the processes that enter into the structure 
and growth of our imitative functions. In making my state- 
ment, I shall first be led to speak, perhaps at far too great 
a length, about the difficult problem of the possible classifi- 
cation and definition of the processes which we can call, with 
more or less right, imitative. I shall do so because my ex- 
perimental work, later briefly sketched, has already sug- 
gested to me, not only the need, but at least one motive of 
such a classification. Then I shall very briefly indicate the 
first beginning of an experimental study of some simple imi- 
tative processes which I have been prosecuting only since 
October i, at Harvard, under the guidance of my colleague, 
Prof. Miinsterberg. If my little sheaves are, so far, very nat- 
urally lean, they may still suggest the fact that in this field 
the harvest is plenteous, whatever you may think of any of 
the laborers. 

1 Read at the December meeting of the American Psychological Association, at 




If we ask ourselves : * what is the definition of Imita- 
tation?' we soon find that any effort to separate imitative 
motor functions, in ourselves, from those which are not imi- 
tative, or imitative conscious processes from those mental 
processes which are not imitative, is a very difficult thing. 
Aristotle, who first undertook to define the psychological 
category of imitative mental processes, and of their correla- 
tive expressive functions, was quickly led to extend the term 
imitation until it came to include the most original produc- 
tions of that poetic art which he himself called more philo- 
sophical than history. No student of the subject can easily" 
avoid a wide extension of the category in question. Prof. 
Baldwin, in defining imitations (from a general biological 
point of view), by the very wide characterization which iden- 
tifies them with * circular ' reactions, or with ' motor pro- 
cesses that tend to reproduce their own stimuli,' has 
seemed, I suppose, to many of his readers, to have made the 
concept of imitation far too inclusive for psychological con- 
venience. All acts of sensuous attention are, of course, such 
circular motor processes. Again, is the insistent brooding of 
a mourner, as such, an imitative process? Yet it, of course, in- 
volves usually many circular reactions. Yet, from another 
side, there are facts that Prof. Baldwin himself has noted in 
passing, and will regard as familiar, but that would seem to 
tend to make even a still wider definition than this one de- 
sirable. In the laboratory experiments, later to be men- 
tioned, I ask my subjects to listen to a rhythmic series of 
taps (made with an electric hammer), and then to reproduce 
this series by means of an electric key. Now, suppose that 
a subject persistently guides himself, in this process, as one 
of my subjects has often done, and as, no doubt, many people 
would do, by first, more or less deliberately, translating the 
series of taps to which he listens into a visualized image of 
pencil strokes arranged at intervals on paper, or of points 
marked off on a line ; and suppose that he hereupon regularly 
makes his key-imitation by translating back from the visual- 
ized space intervals, and perhaps from the muscular feelings 


of making the visualized pencil strokes into those muscular 
movements which reproduce the sound at the key. I sup- 
pose we should all agree that here not only is the final re- 
production of the original series an imitative process, but the 
translation into visual and muscular terms, which serves as 
an intermediate instrument, is itself already an imitation. 
But, if so, the intermediate stage, which, be it noted, was 
not, in the subject noted, a spontaneous accidental associa- 
tion, but which was the gradual and habitual outcome of all 
the motor processes of his careful attention, and which arose 
as an incident of his deliberate effort to reproduce what he 
heard, this intermediate stage is surely not itself the result 
of a function that reproduces its own stimulus, but of a 
function that produces, in image form, contents which are 
not those of the stimulus, but which have relations simi- 
lar to those presented in the regular stimulus. But that 
imitations are thus often translations, reproductions which 
do not even mean to bring back the original stimulation, but 
which do mean to interpret it, by setting over against it its 
illumining counterpart in terms of some other set of stimu- 
lations, this, at least, on the highest levels of consciousness, 
is a commonplace. Aristotle already told us of art as in- 
tending to imitate life by producing before our eyes some- 
thing that is in pretty marked contrast to life, e. g., an 
heroic tragedy. My subjects, at the key, as you will later 
see, find themselves both voluntarily and involuntarily doing 
a good deal of this same general sort of thing, their imita- 
tions being often essentially interpretations, just as a trans- 
lator imitates the original text precisely by meaning to write 
out, not the words which he gets as a stimulus, but the words 
of another tongue, which may, as faithfully as possible, serve 
the same ideal purposes. But in the same way, apart from 
the special motives of the translator, we all have very deep- 
set habits of imitating the sensations of one sense by means 
of deliberately recalled images belonging to another sense, 
and so, by motor reactions that tend to reproduce the stim- 
uli to which these latter images correspond. 

Thus the effort to define imitation, whether by wide or 
by narrow phrases, is at every point met with pretty decided 


difficulties. Ignoring, as far as possible, any but the psy- 
chological point of view, I may, however, venture at this 
stage to suggest some of the more prominent classes of imi- 
tative functions, and of functions more or less obviously re- 
lated to imitation, classes such as I myself have been led to 
distinguish. Whether any convenient generalization, as to 
the extent of the word imitation, is possible, we may then 
briefly consider. 

To us all the word imitation first suggests motor func- 
tions, such as those of the child that struts about as a sol- 
dier, or that runs on all fours as a dog, or that learns to talk. 
Such functions are very numerous. We observe them in 
many animals, including birds. Their characteristic is that 
the imitator is more or less clearly aware of a model, and 
finds his own body more or less able to repeat certain usu- 
ally extensive and complex movements of this model. This 
repetition gives satisfaction to the imitator. Imitation of 
this sort is to be roughly classified as either more or less 
critical. Sometimes the imitator is content with the rough- 
est reproduction. Sometimes he is cautious, and is watch- 
fully anxious to do precisely as his model does. A mocking- 
bird, as I at one period often observed in case of a house- 
hold pet, appears to study with very great care at least some 
of the series of notes that he reproduces. Some children far 
surpass others in an early pedantry about the enunciation 
and use of their words. In any case, meanwhile, the sub- 
jective experiences of the imitator are here, at best, only in 
part identical with those given him in the stimulus presented 
to his senses by his model. He hears sounds, and replies by 
sounds, but of course he feels, more or less, the muscular and 
other organic disturbances incident to the reproduction. He 
sees the movements of his model. He both sees and feels 
his own imitative movements, and in all this he feels the 
latter as his own. In consequence, the imitator usually takes 
what is often called a decidedly ' subjective ' sort of interest 
in his power to imitate. His activity has thus two strongly 
contrasted aspects. He watches his model, so far as he 
watches it at all, with a highly objective faithfulness. So 
far, his imitation depends upon a theoretical and very self- 


surrendering sort of outward scrutiny. On the other hand, 
he delights in his own imitative powers as his own, i. e., as 
corporeally interesting events in his own organism, just as 
even the mocking-bird very obviously does. On this side 
the activity is, in the popular sense of the word, as self- 
centred as is eating or catching prey. That is, it is an ac- 
tivity whose conscious aspect involves an interest in inter- 
organic experiences. And, on this side too, the imitative 
process, in our children, is a great meeting place about which 
all sorts of self-considerate and self-conscious interests gather. 
Thus one sees how highly inter-organic, or subjective, as 
well as how highly outward-looking, objective, the imitative 
consciousness in the present class of cases has to be. Hence 
the enormous fecundity and various outcome of such imita- 
tive interest. Vanity and conscience, ideal devotion and 
flippant mockery, tame subserviency and the loftiest origi- 
nality, all these tendencies alike may, and in fact normally 
do, take root in this fruitful soil, and any of them may grow 
into the child's later character, and all because he was, in the 
first place, disposed to repeat the complex motor processes 
of his models, and so was forced to set off his consciousness 
of his own movements against his perception of the move- 
ments of others, thus emphasizing both his ideas of himself 
and his ideas of his models, each set of ideas by contrast with 
the other set. Imitation may thus become, to use the words 
again in their purely popular sense, the most self-abnegating 
or the most self-considerate of tendencies, according as, in 
the end, one or the other of these opposing drifts of attention 
gets emphasized, i. e., according as one comes to consider 
rather his own imitative organism or the outside model. 

So much for a first and most familiar class of processes 
defined as imitative. But we all of us extend the word imi- 
tation to include those intelligent functions which tend to the 
voluntary production of external objects resembling certain 
other objects called the models of the objects produced. 
Thus, drawing, painting, modeling, building, mechanical 
skill of all sorts, are universally named imitative functions. 
In our own cases such functions, as a class, are obviously al- 
most altogether derived, directly or indirectly, from the 


functions of the former class just characterized. We learn, 
namely, to reproduce things, in whole or in part, by first 
having learned to imitate people. Mechanical skill may early 
become self-directing. But it is probably always, at the 
start, socially guided. Psychological complications are, ac- 
cordingly, here of much the sort as in the foregoing class of 
cases. Our imitations of objects involve vast numbers of 
relatively controllable conscious processes besides our per- 
ception of the finished products which resemble the stimu- 
lating models. And here, too, in consequence, both our rela- 
tively objective, or outward-looking, and our relatively sub- 
jective, or inward-looking, interests get a correlative devel- 
opment as we learn to imitate a development which may 
have the utmost complexity, and the most momentous psy- 
chological consequences. On the whole, however, the imi- 
tation of things generally tends, as they say, to send us ' out 
of ourselves,' i. e., outside of our interest in the processes of 
our own organisms, still more than does the imitation of the 
mere acts of people. Our imitative deed is transient; but, 
when we make something by the deed, its product here re- 
mains to calm our more anxious or our vainer interest in our 
own motor processes as such. Hence it is that musicians 
are more subjective in mood than are architects; and it is 
easier to be vain about matters of social etiquette than about 
one's skill as a carpenter, in case one has any such skill; 
while, to pass to another case where imitation is complicated 
with originality, nobody can judge his own book while it is 
in press as he can after it is in cold print and binding before 

Now, I have laid stress upon the factors present in these 
two classes of cases of imitation, because I have meant to use 
them to illustrate the general nature of imitation itself. In 
these two classes of cases imitation is not merely, as a psy- 
chological process, the reproduction of a series of sense stimu- 
lations, or of external perceptions by means of a series of 
motor processes ; but it is something still more complex. It 
is not only a process by which we reproduce one set of data 
by means of another set of data like the first, but it is also a 
process by which we get. two, setst of data whose inevitable 


contrasts are as interesting and as instructive to us as 
their purposed resemblances. We get an interpretation 
of the perceived model through the imitation of it. On the 
other hand, to say that imitation, in these cases, is an act 
whose main motive is to interpret my perceptions by means 
of my deeds, is indeed true ; but of course, so far, the same 
might be said of all those acts, such as looking, listening, ap- 
proaching an object, grasping, touching, handling, exploring, 
in the perceptive field, of all acts, in short, which involve 
intellectually valuable motor processes. What, then, is the 
characteristic feature of the imitative acts in the mentioned 
classes of cases ? Does it not obviously lie in the fact that 
my interpretation of what I am usually said to perceive out- 
side of my organism, in the external world, is, in the case of 
these classes of imitations, conditioned upon my setting over 
against my perceptions a series of motor processes, or of 
perceived results of motor processes, which in its wholeness 
contrasts with the other series in the one principal fact that 
the motor processes, the imitative deeds or their results, 
appear to me relatively controllable, plastic, reproducible at 
will, while otherwise the two series are largely similar. 
When I learn to grasp an apple, the grasping is indeed, once 
learned, an easily reproducible and so controllable deed, 
and on suggestion is remembered as such. But when I learn 
to say apple, upon hearing the word pronounced, the act, 
once in my power, is felt as controllable, but as to result it 
resembles its model (namely, the word apple, pronounced 
by my neighbor) something that concerns not its controlla- 
bleness, but some of its other characters. Thus, in these 
cases, imitation is definable, from the psychological side, as 
an act that interprets an uncontrollable perceptive series by 
setting over against it a series of experiences that appear to 
be similar to it in content, but to be also in contrast with it 
by virtue of their controllableness. Or, again, an imitation 
is an act that tends to the interpretation of what is beyond 
my power, or is independent of my movements, by contrast- 
ing it with what otherwise resembles it, but is in my power, 
and is a result of my movements. This feature of imitation, 
viz., that it accomplishes the aim of throwing light on the 


uncontrollable percept by setting the controllable deed be- 
side it, is, I suppose, the principal intellectual function of 
the higher imitative life. That the light thrown on the pro- 
cesses is throughout relative, that what I perceive outside 
me helps me to know, by contrast, my own imitative act, as 
well as the latter helps me to know the former, this, after 
what has been said, needs no further illustration. At the 
outset, of course, we make no clear sundering between what 
goes on inside our organisms and what we perceive outside 
them. My point here is, it is our imitation that helps us- 
first to do so by first bringing the mentioned contrast to light. 
Now, however, as helping us on to another class of imita- 
tive functions, we may note the fact that where I thus use 
imitative processes to set off or to interpret perceived facts 
that are outside of my organism, it is not necessary that the 
similarity between the externally observed and the inter- 
nally produced processes, between the original and its so- 
called copy, should have any one established or even desired 
degree of closeness. I insist, it is often the contrast as 
much as the agreement between the two that interests us. 
In every case so far the imitation differs from what it copies 
by virtue of the associated muscular and affective accompani- 
ments which make the imitation our own, as distinct from 
what we merely observe without. These accompaniments 
may involve all the emotions of play. In that case the imi- 
tator very frequently wants his imitation to be unlike as well 
as like its original. One plays in one's own original fashion. 
Mocking is often more or less consciously untrue to its 
model. This is what you do/ we say to the person whom 
we mock. But thereupon what we do is only a pretended 
imitation an exaggeration, of whose grotesque unreality 
we then make an ideal. Children surely often do this. The 
reasons for such action lie deep in the nature of the play 
motives. The mocking imitation is as imperfect a copy as 
are often the actions of kittens at play, when compared with 
the behavior of grown cats that are seriously fighting. 

If an imitation thus often sets off our consciousness of the 
original by virtue of the very contrast that mingles with the 
similarity, it is plain that we may look to find imitations that 


not only by accident, but intentionally, represent one set of 
sense data in terms of activities that give us data belonging 
to another sense or to any otherwise contrasted group of 
experiences. The imitation of a series of sounds by a series 
of movements involves, of course, as in dancing or in beating 
time, a vast number of acquired habits of conplex nature. 
Yet the fact remains that such imitations do both fascinate 
and enlighten us. This principle of the tendency to deliberate 
idealization of our imitations, to deliberate deviations from 
the literal, one finds, then, in the most varied forms, in play, 
in art, in the far-reaching and deep-seated tendency, very 
complex in its origin, to translate space-relations into time 
relations and vice versa ; in every form of fondness for what 
one may call symbolical motor processes, and so, finally, 
with very momentous consequences, in all those motor pro- 
cesses that are connected with the growth of our theoretical 
thinking. That our thoughts are, in this general sense, con- 
scious processes by which we constantly mean to imitate the 
truth of the things that we experience, is perfectly obvious. 
Equally obvious is the fact that to think experience is to 
translate it into terms which are decidedly foreign to its 
character as it comes to us, apart from such ideal reconstruc- 
tion, and in its first intention. Now thinking accompanies 
motor processes, abbreviated and truncated and rendered 
abstract in all sorts of ways, but very obviously and highly 
imitative in all the cases where we get them in any relatively 
unabridged form. The gesture language is a case in point. 
It gives the gesturer trains of experience of a very complex 
character, which are in a summary and more or less sym- 
bolic fashion similar to the primary trains of experience 
which by his gestures he undertakes to describe. For ges- 
tures we who speak have now learned to substitute trains of 
words, which we follow with an endless chain of attentive 
processes shifting from one series of images to another. 
But the series of attentive processes, as it follows now these, 
now those images, gives us a total inner experience which 
we call an account of the experienced reality beyond the 
thinking process. The value of this account we judge 
by its resemblance, not in detail, but in its total net- 


work of related elements, to those aspects of the relatively 
external experience which our thinking means to emphasize. 
And yet, on the other hand, how unlike their originals our 
abstract ideas mean to be. How far is the thinker's imita- 
tion from being a mere inner reproduction of the external 
experience about which he thinks? It is the very contrast 
which here enlightens us, when it is accompanied by a con- 
sciousness of the sort of agreement which we all the time 
intend. In symbolic imitation the imitative subject means 
to neglect all of his model except his own chosen aspect of 
it ; and even this aspect he generally means to reproduce in 
terms of a sort of inner experience which differs from it as 
widely as the data of one sense can differ from those of 

So far I have mentioned ordinary imitations of the doings 
of our comrades, acquired tendencies to reproduce or pic- 
ture things, and then the endlessly numerous cases of con- 
sciously idealized, playfully falsified or symbolically abbre- 
viated imitations of the interesting aspects of things. Is it 
not fair to call all these manifestations of the imitative ten- 
dency? But some one will say, as people have said of both 
Tarde's and Prof. Baldwin's uses of the term imitation, that 
to go on in this fashion is in the end to include pretty much 
all psychical processes in the field covered by the word. If 
imitation occurs wherever there are relatively inner or or- 
ganic experiences e, g., images or trains of images which, 
in some aspect, resemble certain relatively external or per- 
ceptive experiences then where can one name an experience 
involving any images whatever, or any organic adjustment, 
which will not have something imitative about it? I reply 
that, if the foregoing classes of cases were all that I had to 
consider, I myself should be disposed to draw the lines 
about the class of processes to be called imitative from a 
purely psychological point of view, in this way : An imitation 
either is or accompanies a sort of motor adjustment. And, 
now, what sort? I answer: So far as we have yet gone, an 
imitation appears as an adjustment that leads to the empha- 
sizing or interpreting of a train of relatively external expe- 
riences, by virtue of the fact that the mental accompaniment 


of this adjustment is a train of relatively inner experiences 
(muscular feelings, or images of any sense you please, or 
affective states), while the similarity of the train of internal 
experiences to the train of external experiences serves, in 
the midst of the mutual contrasts of the two trains, to make 
livelier the consciousness of each series, when viewed side 
by side with the other. Or, more briefly, an imitation is a 
more or less conscious motor adjustment that tends to set off 
a series of given experiences by furnishing from within the 
conscious counterpart of some one or more of the aspects of 
the first series a counterpart which is both like and unlike 
the original, and whose contrast is therefore often as in- 
structive as its similarity. 

Essential to this notion of imitation is so far the fact that 
the consciousness of the imitator is as truly a consciousness 
of his adjustment as it is a consciousness of his model. To 
be sure, at the outset, an infant has no clear idea of himself; 
but the point is that the ideas of inner and outer thus get 
clarified. The two must be more or less clearly held apart. 
How clearly depends upon what grade of consciousness you 
are considering. Moreover, the model is not a simple sense- 
fact, like a color, but is always, where we speak of imita- 
tion, a complex series of facts. We imitate the complex. 
We may by mere association reduplicate the elementary, but 
in that case we have no true instance of imitation. Where 
association by similarity takes place between a relatively 
elementary fact of sense and an image, there is no imitation : 
(i) because one isn't at all conscious of this association as in- 
volving what we call his motor adjustment as such ; (2) 
because in many cases the associated elements tend to blend, 
and not to set each other off ; and (3) because by imitation 
we always mean a consciously complex process of adjustment. 
Imitation, in the classes of cases heretofore considered, does 
not mean, therefore, mere similarity of relatively inner and 
relatively outer experiences, but the similarity of a com- 
plex motor series or of its complex result to a complex 
perceptive series, the conscious interest lying in the anti- 
thesis of the two as well as in their mutual support. The 
two are not merely alike, but each is more or less consciously 


referred to the other. The imitation means the model, as 
well as chances to resemble it. 

But, if we now proceed one step further, we do indeed 
seem to meet with functions which an external observer calls 
imitative, but which apparently do not conform to the fore- 
going definition. Many of our imitations occur with very 
little consciousness. We sit when others sit, rise when they 
rise, yawn when they yawn ; follow fashions without any 
clear intention to do so, and catch by contagion tricks of 
gesture and facial expressions, as well as states of emotion. 
Panic-fear, in all gregarious animals, involves functions that 
seem clearly imitative. Yet here one surely does not mean 
to observe either the likeness or the contrast between the 
outer and the inner experiences. In fact, a contagious emo- 
tion, such as terror or a violent sympathetic faintness at the 
sight of another's pain, often seems rather to forbid the ap- 
pearance of any clear or conscious sympathy with one's 
fellow as an objectively real person, and one gets lost in 
one's own feelings even while one is imitative. Yet even 
here, although the antithesis leaves consciousness, and the 
relatively subjective series of inter-organic processes and ex- 
periences does not help one to interpret the relatively exter- 
nal facts in any deliberate way, it still remains true that we 
have the one series emphasized by and dependent upon the 
other; and while the imitator himself does indeed lose sight 
of any clear relation of himself to his model, the external 
observer calls this an imitation, and not, like the independ- 
ent nest-building of two birds of the same species, a mere 
resemblance in function, because the observer can see what 
the imitator neglects the close relation of dependence be- 
tween the two resembling and contrasting series. 

Now I, of course, cannot doubt that, biologically speak- 
ing, the tendencies towards a relatively unconscious con- 
formity of an animal's conduct to the conduct of its herd- 
fellows, lie deeper than the more conscious and intelligent 
sorts of explicitly discriminating imitation which I have so 
far defined in this paper. But the question still remains as 
to what it is about these relatively unconscious sorts of imi- 
tation which makes them the basis of so much that is later 


important for the higher psychological functions. I venture * 
then still to point out that the unconsciously imitative gre- 
garious animal is still going through motor processes, such 
as place, side by side with various series of his sensory 
stimuli, a great number of inter-organic series of processes. 
These processes, on the one hand, extend far beyond the 
mere adjustment of his sense organs to the stimulation, 
while, on the other hand, they tend to emphasize these sense 
stimulations, not merely by repeating them, but by giving 
them companions which in various ways resemble them, and 
which therefore make them more effective in leading to fur- 
ther conduct. When chickens suffer from contagious fright, 
they all repeat the warning cry of the flock. Of what use is 
the repetition? Each fowl is in consequence warned, not 
only by his neighbor but by himself, and the inner warning 
comes not only to the ear, but also through just those 
motor sensations and affective inner states which accompany 
this motor adjustment. No other fowl could warn this 
one as the bird can warn itself. What is heard without 
already puts each fowl somewhat on the alert. But the 
inner resonance of the imitative act makes far more impres- 
sive this whole experience of danger. So then, even here, 
an imitative act appears to me to be not so much an act that, 
in Prof. Baldwin's phrase, tends to repeat its own stimu- 
lus, as an act that tends to reinforce, emphasize, signalize, 
clarify its complex stimulus by adding thereto other and 
parallel series of internal or organic stimuli, which by their 
similarity as a series shall support, while by their differences 
they shall in general supplement, the stimulus in question. 
This inter-organic imitation and supplementing of one series 
of stimuli by a series of inner experiences is, as a fact, very 
naturally connected in similarly organized beings with a 
behavior that, externally viewed, appears imitative, even 
when the creature in question is not interested in this imita- 
tive character. Simple attention need not, from my present 
point of view, be regarded as involving imitation, although 
simple attention does involve a circular reaction which tends 
to the repetition of its own stimulation. But if attention is 
supported by the appearance of a series of experiences, 

230 JO SI A H RO YCE. 

motor or emotional, which are produced through the motor 
adjustment, and which taken together, run parallel to a 
series of stimuli and resemble it, thereby emphasizing and 
supplementing it, then one has an imitative function. 

I conclude, then, so far in general, that imitative func- 
tions seem to me to be those which tend to emphasize, to 
support, or on higher levels to interpret, a complex series of 
sensory stimulations, by producing, as their accompaniment, 
another series of inter-organic experiences which resembles 
as a whole the first series, but which involves in general 
decidedly different activities of the organism, in addition to 
those of the organs receiving the stimuli. Lower cases of 
imitative functions already show us the contrast, in the 
midst of the similarity, between the imitative process and its 
sensory stimuli. Higher up this contrast is itself made an 
object of consciousness. Imitation and model are contrasted 
series of presentations whose relation keeps them apart. 
And hence it is that, as I myself suppose, imitation is, psy- 
chologically speaking, the one source of our whole series of 
conscious distinctions between subject and object, thought 
and truth, deed and ideal, impulse and conscience, inner 
world and external world in short, of all those familiar and 
fundamental rational distinctions which psychology has hith- 
erto found so baffling. The contrast between model and 
imitation is, to my mind, the first appearance in conscious- 
ness of that differentiation which in the end makes internal 
and external experience not merely qualitatively different 
as, of course, they more or less are from the first but con- 
sciously discriminated, as at first they seem not to be. 

Biologically speaking, I should fancy that imitation might 
be, in the end, explicable by something even more funda- 
mental still than Prof. Baldwin's circular reactions, viz., by 
those generally cooperative tendencies which must lie at the 
basis of all evolution in organisms consisting of multitudes 
of cells. These involve amongst their number tendencies 
to direct functional agreement. What occurs in one part of 
an organism must in general be repeated with variations 
elsewhere, in so far as the cells of various regions may be 
of the same general type, and are meant permanently to 


cooperate. Such inter-organic repetitions of disturbance 
(attended with wide contrasts, which run side by side with 
the functional agreements) we have in all those recently 
much studied physiological accompaniments of emotion ; and 
in all those phenomena of functional nervous equivalents 
which attract one's attention in the history of the varying 
symptoms of many a complex nervous case. Here what hap- 
pens to one set of cells may tend sooner or later to be repre- 
sented by a more or less contrasted functional equivalent 
in some other set of cells. Now these things are not yet 
cases of imitation. But they suggest a basis upon which 
imitative functions may have grown. 

I said that my few experiments have already, without as 
yet proving anything, suggested to me the need of some 
such analysis as the foregoing. The scope of the experi- 
ments themselves is comparatively narrow. Yet some of 
you will perhaps think it already too wide. 

I have desired to get some notion of the inner conscious- 
ness and of the outer effectiveness of a person engaged in 
acquiring skill in some imitative process. This process, as 
I desired it, should be fairly simple, and yet complex enough 
to involve the cooperation of a number of different habits, 
interests and forms of attention in the accomplishment of 
one end. I decided, by Prof. Miinsterberg's advice, to 
choose the process of imitating rhythmic series of taps which 
were to be made at controllable intervals by means of an 
electric hammer, and imitated with an electric key by the 
subjects. In choosing the particular series of taps, I have 
followed my own choice and responsibility, and must con- 
fess that I have tried several rhythmic series that any more 
experienced psychological experimenter than myself might 
have easily regarded as too complex to promise any definite 
results. Yet so far, despite various inevitable eddies in' my 
little stream of experience, I have not been disappointed at 
the wealth of suggestions that have come to me. I have re- 
garded the so-called time-sense aspect of my experiments as 
a necessary, but for my purposes a very subordinate, aspect. 
The nature of the rhythmic consciousness itself comes in my 
way, but rhythmic consciousness is here only the instru- 


ment, not the end. The chief aim for the first has been to 
get a pretty careful series of records of the facts, and to 
wait for experience to indicate the best further procedure. 
The facts collected have so far been objective records of the 
imitations and a constant series of subjective records written 
down at once, after such experiment, by the hands of the 
subjects concerned. 

As for the physical mechanism used, a mechanism which, 
as I frankly confess, better hands than mine generally guide, 
it is in summary this: On the axle of a kymograph drum 
wheels revolve armed with platinum points, arranged at 
pleasure for each rhythmic series as used, the points succes- 
sively dipping into mercury contacts at the lowest point in 
each revolution of their respective wheels. The completed 
contact gives in each case one stroke of an electric hammer. 
The moment of each stroke is recorded by an electric pen 
on the kymograph drum, the record itself being controlled 
by a tuning-fork tracing. Any one rhythmic series having 
been heard through by the subject (who sits holding, 
ready for his response, a metallic key especially prepared 
for these experiments), the subject, at the word 'ready,' 
repeats the rhythm that he has heard, by making suc- 
cessive connections between the point of the key and a 
mercury contact beneath. The key itself is arranged so as 
to be noiseless, or nearly so, in its own movements. At 
times it is arranged in the same circuit with the hammer, 
and then the subject, in making the contacts, tries to repeat 
the very sounds which he has heard and at the same inter- 
vals. At other times this connection is avoided, and then 
the subject makes his imitative contacts with a ' silent key ' 
depending on the inner light only. Every imitative series 
of key-contacts is recorded on the same drum with the 
rhythmic series of hammer strokes which was to be imitated. 
The routine of each experiment is simply that the kymo- 
graph is started; the subject, who cannot see, although he 
does indeed hear the rotation of the mechanism, hears the 
word ' ready,' and then the series of hammer taps to be imi- 
tated. These taps, of course, cannot under these circum- 
stances be made perfectly uniform, owing to the uncontrolla- 


ble variations of the hammer's relation to the magnet; but 
they have no regular emphasis, and subjects learn to ignore 
the more ordinary of the caprices of the hammer. The 
rhythm being completed, there is a very brief pause for re- 
adjustment, when the subject, at the repeated word 'ready,' 
proceeds to beat off on the key as exact an imitation as he 
can of what he has heard. He then at once records dated 
and numbered notes of his subjective experiences during the 
experiments, and the records are filed. 

So far most, although by no means all, of the records 
have been taken in work upon two rhythms, both complex 
enough to make the labor of apperceiving and reproducing 
them with relative exactitude decidedly noteworthy. They 
have first been learned, then practised upon daily, or as 
often as possible, their rates being very widely varied, while 
keeping the relations of the intervals constant. Separate 
series of experiments upon the estimation of slight changes 
of rate, apart from imitation, have also been recorded. And 
a considerable number of records have been taken of the 
skill of the subjects in independently giving and varying by 
minimal steps each rhythm after it had been learned. Of 
late one of the rhythms has been deliberately distorted by 
introducing irregularly placed new points into three of its 
more noteworthy intervals; and the vast change thus sud- 
denly introduced into an already well-established series of 
conscious data has been studied, both objectively and sub- 

The subjects include at present four women and four 
men, all of a fair although decidedly varied amount of intro- 
spective preparation. Three have a fair musical training. 
One of these is especially delicate in rhythmical perception. 
One of the unmusical subjects, on the other hand, is espe- 
cially imperfect as to all clearer rhythmical consciousness. 
Another is a Japanese. Questions have been asked for the 
subjective records as the state of the experiments seemed to 
indicate. Above all, I have wanted to know what it means 
to the subject to try to catch, to hold, to make an ideal for 
action, of this series of monotonous taps with their varying 
intervals. I have now about 200 of these subjective notes, 

2 34 JO SI AH RO YCE. 

corresponding to about 1000 repetitions of the various 

Well, so far, I have been especially struck by the fact 
that the process of holding for imitation involves, according 
to the records, the most widely varying subjective pro- 
cesses, which do not seem to be constant, even for one sub- 
ject, in any such way as you would expect. One catches 
the rhythm and prepares to repeat it by means of what ap- 
pear in consciousness as the most heterogeneous materials. 
There is first, of course, the case where one tries, volunta- 
rily or half involuntarily, devices which are either con- 
sciously abstract sorts of imitation, such as counting, or else 
involve the use of voluntary muscular movements, of hand 
or of foot, made in time to the rhythm while one hears it. 
But curiously enough, in many cases, and with some of the 
subjects, devices of this kind are felt as rather hindering 
than helping the imitation. Interesting also, with some sub- 
jects, is the lack of any preference for any particular set of 
these voluntary or semi-voluntary motor devices. But next,, 
side by side with these voluntary processes, or instead of 
them, there appear unconsciously selected masses of varying 
organic feelings, which seem to be quite involuntary in their 
special origin and which are at least nearly always unex- 
pected. These, when they come, keep some sort of time 
with the rhythm, and may help to apperceive it. They are 
described as inner beatings, ' in the head,' in the neck,' in 
one temple,' in the ball of my thumb,' as tinglings, throb- 
bings, or what not. These vary most remarkably from ex- 
periment to experiment, appear to vary quite apart from 
one's expectation, to come and go as they choose. To these 
are joined on occasion all sorts of involuntary associations 
of a more or less symbolic sort 'ideas of urgency,' or of 
' deliberation,' or of merriment, or of other such sorts famil- 
iar to all who note musical associations. Visual associations 
join themselves a dark rhythm has been mentioned in one 
case. The visualization of the intervals as space intervals is 
not unknown. All these phenomena show so far a rather 
baffling variety, which forbids one easily to reduce them to 
the terms of habit. The whole process, at least in all its 


earlier stages, show far less routine than I had expected. 
The report of definable 4 waves of attention,' as such, has 
been rarer than I should have anticipated. Perhaps further 
introspection will distinguish these facts better. But, of 
course, when the rhythm is once well learned, all the fore- 
going processes may and sometimes do lapse into a mere 
sense, that I know all this.' Then, however, one still has 
a model general idea or ideal of the one rhythm, * just like a 
sentence,' as the subjects are wont to say a general idea of 
the one rhythm, which is still variable as to its tempo. By 
as elaborate devices for variation of the facts as I can devise, 
I am just now trying to run down what this general ideal of 
the variable unity of the one rhythm really is. But to 
speak of this would take me beyond my space. Nor have I 
as yet any report to make as to the time facts of the rhythm 

I have meant to state a problem, viz., that as to the essen- 
tial nature of the processes called imitative, and to report 
the mere fact of a research now under way. You may see 
how one of these reports suggests why the other is an indi- 
cation of matters worthy of further study. Herewith my 
present purpose and your time are alike exhausted. 


(I-V.) 1 



The experiments of this study were performed at To- 
ronto by Prof. Baldwin and Mr. W. J. Shaw, during the 
winter of 1 892-3. 2 The object was to determine the accur- 
acy of the memory for size, as affected by the lapse of time. 
A figure of two dimensions was selected for experiment 
because of the tendency to measure linear size in terms of 
well-known units of length. Circles tend to be measured by 
their radii, but in the case of the square, the impression is 
that of the area, and the natural memory-image is not so 
liable to be corrected by comparison with standards fixed in 
mind by repeated experience. 

The experiments proceeded by three different methods : 
(i) Selection from a Variety. A single figure (the normal, 
150 mm square) was drawn on a black-board and shown to a 
large college class ; after a certain time a number of squares 
of various sizes were shown simultaneously, and the class 
was requested to designate the one that appeared to be the 
same size as the normal. The squares ranged from 130 to 
210 mm by intervals of 20 mm, and the time intervals were 
10, 20 and 40 minutes. The class consisted of about 225 
persons, of whom some 50 were ladies. (2) Identification. 
Here the normal square was first shown, and afterwards one 
other square; the subjects were asked to say whether the 
latter appeared to be greater, equal to, or less than the 
normal. The time intervals were the same as before, and 

1 These studies were all concluded in the college year '93-' 94. 
* Reported in these words to the Amer. Psych. Ass., Dec., 1893, by H. C. Warren. 



the second square was in every instance 20 mm greater than 
the normal. 

Both series were treated by the Method of Right and 
Wrong Cases, and the two results showed remarkable agree- 
ment. The percentage of right cases is shown in Table I. 


I. By Selection. 

II. By Identification. 

10 min. 



20 " . . 



40 " . . 



Plotting the results (Fig. i), we find the memory curves, as 
they may be called, practically parallel, but the degree of 
accuracy is much higher by the second method than by the 
first. In each there is a rapid falling off at first, then a 
period of gradual descent, and finally another rapid drop. 




The greater accuracy of the results in II is partly due to 
the manner of stating the question. Should the memory- 
image of the normal square either remain unaltered, or 
decrease in size, the subject would respond correctly that 
the second square was the greater, and he would respond 
incorrectly only if his memory-image had increased sensibly 
in size from its original. Whereas, in the series by Selection 
his responses would be classed as incorrect if his memory- 


image had either increased or decreased sensibly. A further 
source of error in the series by Selection was the disturbance 
due to simultaneous contrast between the figures. Some 
special experiments were afterwards made to determine the 
effect of this contrast (see Study II, below). 

In discussing the form of the two memory-curves so 
reached, it must first be observed that their real origin 
is not at A, but at a point, or points, near B. For the 
difference of 20 mm is very much greater than the least 
discernible difference between two squares observed in 
immediate succession ; hence, even if a considerable interval 
should elapse before the second square is shown, no incorrect 
judgment will be given. The effect of this is to make the first 
falling off, when once it begins, even more rapid than indi- 
cated on the diagram, and possibly also to carry out the 
parallelism between the two curves still further. The reason 
for the sudden falling off may lie in the conditions of the 
experiments. The subjects began to take notes on a lecture 
immediately after the normal square was shown, and there 
was consequently a sudden withdrawal of attention from the 
memory-image, allowing it to fall into great indistinctness at 
once. After this first influence had taken effect, there was, 
it seems, but little change until the ordinary factors which 
tend to make the image more vague, began to take effect. 
The work of these factors, which one would scarcely expect 
to become apparent within 40 minutes, may have been 
hastened by the fatigue arising from steady application. 1 

(3) The third series proceeded by what was termed the 
Method of Reproduction. A normal square having been 
shown, as before, the subjects were asked, after the stated 
interval, to draw a square of the same size on paper. The 
normal in this case was 170 mm square. The reproductions 
were almost always too small, their average being 146.0 
after 20 min. and 146.4 after 40 min. This result was rather 
unexpected, as the other series had indicated a tendency of 
the memory-image to increase in size beyond the original. 
It may be attributed to two factors: (i) The muscles of the 

x The results were examined for a possible difference between the two sexes, but 
4fee variations, wei*. neither marked: nor constant ia direction. 


hand were fatigued from continuous writing, and this tended 
to give the impression of a figure larger than that actually 
drawn. (2) The paper on which the drawing was made was 
not much larger than the actual size of the normal; any 
figure coming close to the edges would appear very large, 
since it occupied so large a portion of the field. Hence 
there was a tendency to draw the square too small. On this 
account it was decided to separate the results obtained by 
this method from the others, where the conditions were 
more nearly alike. 



The experiments were taken up at this point by Messrs. 
Warren and Shaw, at Princeton. A possible objection to 
the Selection Method lay, as has been said, in the disturbing 
influence of simultaneous contrast. To investigate this, the 
following experiment was performed : Ten squares, ranging 
between 100 and 190 mm, were drawn in promiscuous order 
on a large sheet of paper; on another sheet of the same size 
a single square was drawn as normal, and the two sheets 
were placed in different rooms. The subjects observed the 
normal first, and going at once to the other room designated 
the square which appeared equal to it. The normal used 
was 1 20 mm in one instance and 170 mm in another. In 
each case there was a marked attraction towards the center of 
the series, the average for the normal of 120 mm being 123.3, 
and for that of 170 mm, 165. 

On this account it seemed desirable to supplement the 
Toronto experiments by others, and to employ ,a somewhat 
different method, using a series which combined the advan- 
tages of Selection and Identification. The object was to 
determine the threshold, i. e., the (average) least perceptible 
difference from the normal after a given period of time. In 
each experiment the normal was first shown, and after the 
interval another square as near the threshold as the latter 
could be determined from the previous experiments; the 
experiments were continued until the threshold was found. 



When the squares were shown in immediate succession 
(interval of no minutes = perception), the threshold was found 
to be 3 mm for squares of about 150 mm. When the interval 
was increased it was found to make an essential difference 
whether the second square was the larger or the smaller. 
For an interval of 10 minutes the threshold was 8 mm if the 
second was smaller, while it was but 5 mm if the second was 
larger; for 20 minutes it was somewhat less than 8 mm if the 
second was smaller, and less than zero (a minus quantity!) if 
the second was larger; that is, when two squares of the 
same size were shown, 20 minutes apart, the second was pro- 
nounced the smaller by over 50 per cent, of the subjects 
(actually, 63 per cent.) 

That this result was not accidental (the conditions ren- 
dered any collusion impossible) was proved by the substantial 
agreement of all the experiments, pointing as they did with- 
out exception in the same direction. The entire series 
(marked a in Table II) was performed on the same subjects, 
a college class of about 50, Juniors and Seniors, on nine 
separate occasions, the ro-minute intervals being taken first. 
Besides this the table shows two experiments (marked fr) on 


Interval and order. 

Difference between I (normal) and II. 

20 mm 

12 mm 


8 mm 

5 mm 

3 mm 

o mm 


95 (c) 

87 (c) 

63 (c) 

4 mm = 59 
2 mm - 44 


II< or > I 


50 (a) 



10 .... 

87 (d) 

70 (a) 

53 (a) 


20 .... 

75 (b) 

94 (a) 

75 (a) 

65 (a) 

(6 3 < 



82 (d) 

82 (a) 

37 (b) 

67 (a) 

j 2 4 



The figures denote percentage of right answers, except under o mm, where they 
denote the judgment (=, > , or <,) actually made. The normal was 150 mm square- 


two other college classes of 50 and 65 respectively, where 
squares of 150 and 160 mm were used, with a 2O-minute 
interval, the normal being smaller in the former case and 
larger in the latter. The lack of practice makes the thresh- 
old much greater in these instances than in the others, but 
they exhibit the same difference, depending on the order of 
sequence. The line of values marked c shows the experi- 
ments on squares immediately succeeding one another 
(o minutes interval), taken with still another set of subjects, 
and the two values marked d are taken from the earlier 
experiments by Identification. 

These results unite to show that besides the growth of 
inaccuracy, or indistinctness, in the memory-image, there is 
another factor at work, by which the memory-image tends to 
grow larger as the time interval increases. The table gives 
three cases which allow direct comparison between an in- 
creasing and a decreasing sequence: (i) With unpracticed 
observers (see b\ 10 mm increase from the normal was noted 
by only 37*7* after 20 minutes, while the same amount of 
decrease was noted by 75V<>- ( 2 ) With practiced observers 
(a) ,8 mm increase was noted by 67%, and the same decrease by 
49*A' (3) With the same observers as (2), the final test, after 
considerable practice, was with two equal squares, separated 
by 20 minutes interval; 63% pronounced the second square 
smaller, 24^ equal, and iyj larger. Comparing this with 
the observations on the threshold for perception, we see that 
while half of the subjects can distinguish a difference in the 
latter case only when it amounts to 3 mm, in case of a 20- 
minute interval a majority actually think they perceive a 
difference when none exists, indicating plainly that their 
memory-image has grown by more than 3 mm, -apart from 
any increase in the extent of the territory lying l below 
the threshold.' 

These results are not so satisfactory as the earlier series 
(see Table I) for determining the actual law of the threshold, 
on account of the increased degree of practice as the experi- 
ments proceeded. But they bring out clearly this fact of 
the growth, or exaggeration, of the memory-image. The fol- 
lowing explanation, based on direct deductions from Weber's 

242 H. C. WARREN AND W. J. SHA W. 

Law, is suggested to account for this exaggeration. As 
given here, it assumes Weber's Law to hold rigidly ; but 
even if we accept the latter only in the modified form that 
the increments of sensation grow less rapidly than the increments 
of stimulus, it will be seen to apply as a constant tendency, 
and will produce the result indicated, if the supposition on 
which it is based be admitted. 

A B 9 E 

i- -I- -1- n i i- 

IM ID jjj 

Let AC be the normal stimulus, and AB, AE the stimuli 

just perceptibly different from it. Then - = - = r, 

a constant for the entire series, according to Weber's Law; 
and CE > BC. Now the central stimulation of the memory- 
image may assume any magnitude >AB and <AE, and any 
image within these bounds may be identified with the mem- 
ory-image in respect to size. As there is no objective 
regulation of the stimulus, the actual representations will tend 
to distribute themselves, according to the theory of chances, 
evenly between B and E ; but the images around B and E, 
and decreasingly towards C, will tend to be rejected as too 
small and too large, respectively. As the memory-image be- 
comes indistinct, however, the imagination-images nearer C 
are less frequently rejected, and at length no images will be 
rejected between two given points, M and N. Now since the 
actual reproductions are distributed evenly between M and N, 
and none are rejected, the average of these will tend to assume 
the function of memory-image; that is, the point D, midway 
between M and N, will tend to become the basis of judg- 
ment, since AD is the average of the unchallenged images. 
But, since CN is always greater than MC, the point D will 
always lie beyond C; i. c., AD > AC. Thus there will 
always be a tendency on the part of the memory-image to 
grow larger, as soon as there is any tendency on its' part to 
become vague or indistinct; and the continuation of this 
process will be limited only by the limits of the vagueness of 
the memory-image, or by its relations to other objects or 


memory-images which afford a means of comparison and 
regulation. In the instance at hand there are no such means 
of regulation within very wide limits, and the exaggerating 
process goes on without hindrance, so that in the end the 
point B is transferred to a position beyond C, a result 
which, while unexpected and remarkable, is fully accounted 
for by the above theory. 

The close of the college year prevented an extension of 
these experiments to intervals of 40 minutes with the same 
set of men. 

A word or two may be in place here regarding the rela- 
tion between single experiments on a number of subjects 
and a series of experiments on a single individual. In any 
experiments where a number of results are combined and 
their averages taken, what is sought is a representative value. 
By multiplying the trials, accidental influences are eliminated 
and we obtain a value representative of the given individual 
under the given conditions. If the individual represents 
some peculiar type, we should further compare his results 
with those obtained from individuals of other types. If, 
however, what we desire is the observation of an average 
individual, we must make sure that our subject is such, by 
comparing him with others. Rather than repeat the entire 
series on several individuals, we may save time and labor by 
performing a single experiment on a number together. 
There are then a number of precautions to be taken, 
(i) Each subject must understand perfectly the nature of the 
judgment to be made. (2) The judgments must be entirely 
independent. (3) The subjects must be representative not 
drawn from some one peculiar class; and they must be 
governed by sensibly the same conditions. (4) Finally, 
care must be taken with the objective conditions of the experi- 
ment, so that no vitiating circumstances shall creep in. In 
the present instance, every precaution was taken to fulfil 
the first two and the last of these requirements, and, a num- 
ber of doubtful results having been rejected, the remainder 
fulfilled the conditions exactly, as far as a most careful 
scrutiny and attention on the part of the two observers could 
determine. Further, the subjects were acted upon by sen- 


sibly the same conditions during the given interval. There 
is, of course, room for variety of opinion as to how far rep- 
resentative a college class is to be considered, and what 
allowances, if any, should be made for differences in previous 
occupation and differences in location with reference to the 
platform where the squares were shown. The writers are 
inclined to minimize these differences, and as to the former 
question, it is urged that a body of men like those under 
consideration are perfectly representative of the average 
educated male of about 21. We believe the results to be far 
more satisfactory than a quantity of experiments on merely 
one or two individuals, and think that this cumulative method, 
under which alone are possible certain experiments involving 
a great amount of time, may safely be used in connection 
with the more usual procedure. 



I. Problem, Apparatus, and Methods. The indication 
given in a preceding Study (I) that the arrangement of 
squares of various sizes in the visual field has an influence 
upon the identification of one of them as of a certain remem- 
bered size, suggested a farther research. It occurred to 
the writer that any influence of contiguous squares upon 
each other would be accurately measured by their joint 
influence upon the subject's estimate of some other distance 
on the retina. And such a distance as that lying between 
the squares lends itself directly to this purpose. 

An arrangement was readily effected, whereby the rati< 
of the sides of two squares to each other was varied in 
series of values, while the distance between the squares w; 
kept constant. Any regular variations then in the judgment 
of this latter distance, such as that of its mid-point, /. e., 
the bisection of the distance between the squares, would 
due to the variations in the ratio of the square-sizes. Sucl 
a problem shows practical bearings also in all matters whicl 



require estimates of balance, division, proportion in right 
lines between masses, objects, etc., in the field of vision: 
such matters as the hanging of pictures, all designing of 
cuts, vignettes, architectural plans, etc., which involve line 
values. Of course all variations from the correct location of 
a mid-point, or other critical point, lying between two 
masses of material, color, etc., should be allowed for in 
applying the formulae of aesthetic effect. 

A further complication also arises when movement enters 
into the case : the movement of the contrasted masses 
toward or from each other, of the eye from one to the other 
along the line of connection, or of the element of this line 
whose evolution describes the line. 

Experimental Arrangements. The following description 
(with Fig. i) of my device for investigating the problem is 
given in some detail, since it meets the essential requirements 
of such experimentation and is so simple in principle that 
it may be adopted by others who desire to carry this kind 
of experimentation further. 

. I. 

The dark room (R) communicates with room I (R/) by a 
single window (W) which is completely filled with white 


cardboard. In this cardboard two square holes are cut 
(S and S 1 ) whose sides are of determined ratio to each other, 
and whose distance from each other is measured by a slit(D) 
bearing a known ratio in length to the side of the larger 
square. On the wall beside the window (at Ax) is fixed the 
axis of movement of a long needle which is moved upon this 
axis by a pin carried round the face of the clock motor (Cm) 
of a Rothe polygraph. The movement of one end of the 
needle upward by the pin and downward by its own weight, 
is reversed by the other end of the needle, which so carries 
an arrow-head or pointed marker up and down the mm scale 
marked upon the slit D. The needle bears at A the arma- 
ture of an electromagnet. The magnet (E) under the arma- 
ture is fixed to the cardboard and its connections are carried 
into room R/ and terminate in a punch-key (K) on a table 
directly in front of the window W. The reagent sits at this 
key, closes the current when the needle reaches the mid- 
point of the slit D, the needle is arrested by the attraction of 
the magnet (E), and the reading is given on the scale mm. 
The apparatus works automatically, giving a series of experi- 
ments, with alternating up and down movement of the needle, 
until the motor runs down. A gas jet in room R is focussed 
through a large reading lens upon the scale mm, converting 
the small point of the needle seen by the reagent from the 
other room, into a moving bead of light. The back-ground 
of the squares and of the slit is the black of the dark-room 
wall, and the whole is seen by him upon the white surface of 
the cardboard. 

For the horizontal arrangement of the squares, the whole 
apparatus is simply shifted 90, bringing the axis of move- 
ment of the needle below the window. 

With the arrangements thus described experiments were 
carried out on two persons; Sh., (W. J. Shaw) and T. (G. A. 
Tawney), with results as given in this report. 1 Both were 
practiced in psychological experimentation, but Sh. more 
than T. 

1 My thanks are due to these gentlemen, as also to two others who gave me some 
test series. For special reasons the conditions of reaction of the latter were not typical 
and so they were not continued. 


S 1 
In the case of each, the series of values of the ratio ^s 

was -J-, J, -J, -jJg-, which gives, when S has the constant value 
of 20 cm, the following series of values for S 1 , i. e., 10, 5, 
2.50, 1.25 cm. A constant value for the distance between 
the squares was selected which seemed about as likely to 
occur in ordinary arrangements and experiments as any 
other, /".*., J S = 10 cm. 

The experiments were performed in series of 20 to 25, 
called each a 'lot,' only one lot being taken at a sitting to 
avoid fatigue of the eyes. The time of day was kept con- 
stant, the subject was kept in entire ignorance of the object 
of the research and of the results he gave, and was asked 
after each series to give any impressions he might have of the 
accuracy of his results, and of the variations which he made, 
if any, in his method of identifying the mid-point. Careful 
record was kept of all these impressions, and they turned out 
to be valuable. 

Methods of Identifying the Mid-point. The two reagents 
began at the very beginning of the experiments to describe 
their procedure differently a difference which was persisted 
in and became in the sequel a matter of fundamental import- 
ance. Sh. tended to fix his gaze upon the moving bead of 
light ; followed it in its course, and stopped it when it reached 
the mid-point. This, it is evident, involves an element of eye- 
movement through a series of positions corresponding in ex- 
tent directly to half the time D. This I shall call the 
'approach method,' since the mid-point is selected only as 
it is approached by the light-bead. 

T., on the other hand, tended to select the mid-point first; 
and endeavored to hold it fixed until the light-bead reached 
it, then fixing the bead by his reaction. This evidently 
gives a result largely independent of eye-movements on the 
line D, and this may accordingly be called the * fixation' 
method. It will be seen below that very important conse- 
quences follow from this difference of method. 

/. Approach Method. Vertical Arrangement. Results of Sh. 
The results of 770 experiments with the vertical arrange- 
ment upon Sh., who used the 'approach' method, divided 



into 5 series of 6 lots each, are shown in Table I. In the 
'vertical arrangement' the larger square was above the 
smaller in all cases. The variable error is not given in any 
of the tables, since it fell below the limit of accuracy of the 
apparatus, i. e., the diameter of the light-bead. The uni- 
formity in direction of the constant error is shown in the 
small number of exceptions or minus judgments given in the 
column Excpts. in the table. The words ' down,' up,' 
both,' signify the direction of movement of the needle. 

TABLE I. Sh. App. Method. Ver. Arrgt. 

Mean Var. in mm. 


Ratio of Sides 




in cm. 


Both Directions. 





20: 10 












20: 2.50 





20: 1.25 





20: o 





The consideration of the figures given in this table 
enables us to formulate the following statements for the case 
in which the eye follows the stimulating bead to its point of 
arrest, up and down a vertical line : 

1. There is a tendency to fix the mid-point too far away 
from the larger square (positive values of mean var.) 

2. The direction of the tendency to error has practically 
no exceptions. 

3. This tendency varies in some direct ratio with the 
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other; i. e., from 
.01215 of the side of the larger square when its ratio to the 
side of the smaller is 2:1, to .02 of the side of the larger 
when its ratio to the smaller is 16: i. 



4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller 
square, the tendency to locate the mid-point too far away 
from the larger square is about the same as when the sides 
of the two squares are in the ratio 2:1. 

5. The tendency to error is from 16 to 25 per cent. 
stronger when the stimulating object whose location is 
fixated is in movement in the same direction as the tendency 
of error (down), than when it is in movement in the opposite 
direction (up). 

//. Results of Sh. Horizontal A rrangement. Passing now to 
the horizontal arrangement, in which the details of apparatus 
remained the same as for the vertical, I may report as before 
for the two methods. The larger square was placed to the left, 
the smaller to the right, and the bead of light moved right 
and left over the slit between. The variations in the side 
of the smaller square gave as before the series of ratios to 
the side of the larger, ^-, -J, ^, ^. The following table shows 
the results: 

TABLE II. Sh. App. Method. Hor. Arrgt. 

Mean Var. in mm. 


Ratio of Sides 



p t 


in cm. 


Both Directions. 











20: 2.5 






20: 1.25 











From the examination of Table II we gather the follow- 
ing results : 

1. There is a practically uniform tendency of error away 
from the larger square. 

2. This tendency varies in some direct ratio with the 
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other. 



3. The magnitude of the error is from .9 to 2.2 mm, i. e. r 
.005 to .01 of the side of the larger square. 

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the small square- 
the tendency is slightly less than when the ratio of the two- 
sides is 16 : i. 

5. This tendency is about -J- greater when the movement 
of the stimulus fixated is in the direction of the error itself 
(right) than when it is in the opposite direction (left). 

///. Fixation Method. Vertical A rrangement. Results of T.. 
The results of 683 experiments with the vertical arrange- 
ment upon T., who used the fixation method, divided into* 
five series of six lots each, are as follows. See Table III. 

TABLE III. T. Fix. Method. Ver. Arrgt. 

Mean Var. in mm. 


Ratio of Sides 


in cm. 


Both Directions. 





20: 10. 






20: 5. 











20: 1.25 











Examination of this table enables us to make again the 
following statements for this subject with the method and 
arrangement described : 

1. There is a tendency to error in the direction away 
from the larger square. 

2. This tendency has so few exceptions that they are due 
probably to accidental causes. 

3. The amount of this tendency is given in a number 
which fluctuates slightly about a value equal to .015 of the 
side of the larger square. 



4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller 
square there is the same tendency to error, but it is less than 
\ the error when the ratio is 1:2. 

5. The tendency to error is about 50 per cent, greater 
when the stimulus for fixation is moving in the direction 
contrary to that of the variation itself than when it is mov- 
ing in the same direction. 

IV. Results of T. Horizontal Arrangement. The experi- 
ments on T. with the horizontal arrangement, his method 
remaining as before that which I have called the fixation 
method,' gave the results shown in Table IV. 

TABLE IV. T. Fix. Method. Hor. Arrgt. 

Mean Var. in mm. 


Ratio of Sides 
in cm. 





Both Directions. 










20: 2. 5 






20: 1.25 





2 5 





From the examination of this table we may make the fol- 
lowing statement of results for T. : 

1. There is a uniform tendency to error in the direction 
away from the larger square. 

2. This tendency is from 1.64 to 3.25 mm, i. e., in this 
case .008 to .016 the side of the larger square. 

3. This tendency varies in some direct , ratio with the 
ratio of the sides of the two squares to each other. 

4. At the limiting value (o) of the side of the smaller 
square the tendency to error is the same as when the ratio 
between the sides of the two squares is . 

5. The tendency is about J greater when the stimulus 
fixated is moving in the direction of the tendency to error 
(right) than when it is moving in the opposite direction (up). 


V. Rectification Method. It is evident that a second 
series of indications may be obtained from the experiments 
given above in cases in which the reagent expresses his 
sense of the correctness or incorrectness of his result in each 
experiment. Both Sh. and T. were instructed to indicate 
after each experiment whether or not the bead gave a satis- 
factory result when stopped, and also in which direction the 
result should be rectified to give satisfaction. Records were 
kept of all such indications. Since it involved a secondary 
fixing of the mid-point, it approaches the ' fixation ' method ; 
but since it followed upon the earlier determination made 
when the needle was in motion, it involves influences akin to 
those of the 'approach' method; so it may be considered a 
combination of the earlier methods and a refinement upon 
both of them, for it requires a second act of judgment or 
criticism of the result already rendered in each trial. So let 
s call it the * rectification ' method. 

It is further apparent that this rectification of the result 
of any given experiment may take one of four phases. It 
may be a judgment that the needle has gone too far, this 
we may call rectification by 'reversal;' or that it has not 
gone far enough, rectification by 'supplementing.' And 
each of these kinds of rectification will include again two 
instances. There will be reversals when the movement is in 
the direction of the prevailing error (i. e., away from the 
larger square), and when the movement is contary to the 
direction of the prevailing error (i. e., toward the greater 
square.) And the same two cases occur for the ' supple- 
mental' rectifications. 

The cases of rectification in the experiments on Sh. and T., 
both of whom were instructed to use the method, may be 
thrown into the following tables, in which the four kinds of 
rectification are distinguished. 

Results for Sh. Rectification of Results Secured by Ap- 
proach Method. Vertical Arrangement. Giving the figures 
for Sh. in the vertical arrangement we have Table V. 


TABLE V. Sh. App. Method. Ver. Arrgt. 




Ratio of Sides 




in cm. 













3 ' 


















20: 2.5 








{20:1.25 ) 
( 20:0 J 







Totals . . 








From this table we may conclude as follows : 

1. Of the rectification of results secured by the approach 
method, the 'reversals' are nearly twice as frequent as the 

2. The 'reversals' are 5 times as frequent when the bead 
moves against the tendency to error as when it moves in the 
same direction. 

3. The ' supplementals ' are 2\ times as frequent when the 
bead moves in the direction of the error as when it moves in 
the contrary direction. 

4. Rectifications take place in ^ the entire number of 

Horizontal Arrangement. The rectifications of Sh. for the 
horizontal arrangement are shown in Table VI (first line). 
TABLE VI. Hor. Arrgt. 





Ratio of Sides 
in cm. 












. w 




















Whole series 



















It results from this table : 

1. The 'reversals' number 5 times the ' supplementals' 
among the rectifications of data derived by the approach 

2. The 'reversals' are 3 times as many when the bead 
moves in the direction contrary to the prevailing error (i. e. y 
toward the larger square), as when it moves in the opposite 

3. The supplementals are equally divided between the 
two cases of opposite movement of the bead. 

4. The number of rectifications is about -J of the number 
of experiments. 

Results for T. Rectifications of Results Secured by the Fix- 
ation Method. Vertical Arrangement. The results of T. with 
the vertical arrangements appear in Table VII. 

TABLE VII. T. Fix. Method. Ver. Arrgt. 


Ratio of Sides 
in cm. 





















20: 10 














20: 2. 5 








j 20:1.25 ) 

\ 20.0 J 







Total . . . 








Table VII shows the following: 

1. Rectifications by 'supplementing' are ^ more frequent 
than those by 'reversal' when the results are secured by the 
fixation method. 

2. The 'reversals' are -J- more frequent when the bead 
moves in the direction of error than when it moves in the 
contrary direction. 



3. The 'supplementals' are \ more frequent when the 

bead moves in the direction contrary to that of the prevailing 

error than when it moves in the same direction as the error. 

4. The entire number of rectifications is of the entire 

number of experiments. 

Horizontal Arrangement. The rectifications of T. for the 
horizontal arrangement are given in Table VII (second line). 

1. Results. The 'reversals' are three times the 'supple- 
mentals' in the fixation method, horizontal arrangement. 

2. The reversals are \ more when the bead moves in the 
direction of error than when it moves in the opposite 

3. The 'supplementals' are five times more when the 
bead moves contrary to the direction of error than when it 
moves in the same direction. This result, however, is based 
on too small a number of cases to be taken as a numerical 

4. The number of rectifications is \ of the whole number 
of experiments. 

VI. General Interpretation of Results. We are now able to 
gather up the results shown in the earlier tables in some 
more comprehensive statements, based upon the whole num- 
ber of experiments taken together. 

I. Considering the results for the direction and amount 

"Fig. 2 

of error without regarding the influence of the direction of 
movement of the light-bead, we may plot curves showing 


the tendency and amount of error for each of the two arrange- 
ments by each of the two methods. In Fig. 2 the horizon- 
tal ordinate represents the constant series of ratios of the 
square-sides to each other; the vertical ordinate, the size of 
the error and its duration (above the abscissa denoting error 
away, from the larger square). Curves (i) and (2) give the re- 
sults by the approach method, vertical and horizontal 
arrangements respectively ; curves (3) and (4) the results by 
the fixation method, vertical and horizontal respectively. 
The location of the various points of the curves is determined 
in each instance by the figures given in the appropriate 
table above. The curves are numbered to correspond with 
the respective tables. 

Inspection of the four curves gives certain general results 
which unite and summarize the results already shown from 
the separate tables above. 

1. The four curves (representing 1,928 experiments) agree 
in establishing a tendency to error away from the larger 
square of from i to 4.5 mm when the side of the larger square 
is 20 cm. 

2. The close parallelism of three of the curves in their 
common direction, and the general parallelism of all the 
four, establishes the fact that the tendency to error increases 
with the relative increase of the side of the larger square. 

3. The position of curves (i) and (3), considered in relation 
to the position of curves (2) and (4), shows that the tendency 
to error, when the squares are arranged vertically, is about 
twice as great as when they are arranged horizontally. 

4. Comparison of curves (i) and (2) with curves (3) and 
(4) shows that the method of fixation gives more uniform 
results than the method of approach ; and also that the dif- 
ference in result between the vertical and horizontal arrange- 
ments is less when the fixation method is used. It follows 
from this that eye-movements over a line hinder the correct 
estimate of the parts of that line, and that this influence of 
eye-movement is greater for vertical than for horizontal 

II. Considering the results with regard to the direction 
of movement of the light-bead by both methods and in both 



arrangements, we may plot the curves of Fig. 3, in which 
the ordinates remain as in Fig. 2, the points on curves (i) 
and (2) give the amount of error for the several contrast 
ratios for the case of movements of the bead away from and 
toward the larger square respectively by the approach 
method, and the points on curves (3) and (4) give the amount 
of error for the same two cases respectively, by the fixation 
method. These amounts are reached by combining the 
figures for 'down' and 'right' movements in the tables of 
vertical and horizontal arrangement of the approach method, 
for each contrast ratio, and combining similarly the 'up* and 
'left' results of the corresponding tables of the fixation 


Inspection of these four curves (again representing the 
entire 1,928 experiments) leads us to certain conclusions. 

1. Comparison of curves (i) and (3) with curves (2) and 
(4) shows that the error is greater when the bead is moving 
in the direction of the error. 

2. This is especially the case when the approach method 
is adopted, the error then being twice as great when the 
movement is in the direction of the normal error as when it 
is in the contrary direction [comparison of curves (i) and (2)]. 

3. It follows that the influence already found to be due to 
eye-movements varies according to the particular direction of 
the movement along the line explored. If the eye-movement 
is toward the larger of the areas contrasted, it tends to cor- 


rect the normal error of judgment in the estimation of the 
time which connects the two areas. If the movement is, on 
the contrary, away from the greater area it exaggerates the 
normal error of judgment. 

III. The details of the instances of 'rectification' given 
above serve to confirm these general conclusions, both as to the 
normal error itself and as to the influence of eye-movements 
upon it. By the approach method the rectifications by re- 
versal are two to five times more frequent than those by sup- 
plementing 1 . This shows that the rectifications in this instance 
are really corrections of the influences now found to be due 
to eye-movements. Further, reversals are three to four 
times as frequent when the bead moves against the tendency 
to error as when it moves in the direction of this tendency. 
This shows that these corrections are much more likely in 
direction opposite to that in which we now find the real con- 
trast error to occur. When moving in the direction of the 
contrast error the eye-movement influence gets support from 
that error, and so fails of detection, and even secures sup- 
plementing in this direction more frequently than the move- 
ment in the opposite direction does. This is an indirect 
determination of the true direction of the contrast error in 
agreement with the direct experimental result. 

The rectifications in the fixation method, on the other 
hand, are equally divided between the reversals ' and the 
'supplemental,' showing that the influence of eye-movement 
is largely eliminated by this method. And further, the dis- 
tribution of both supplemental and reversals between the 
two cases of movement, in one direction or the other, is now 
directly reversed, i. e., the reversals are more frequent when 
the bead moves in the direction of error, and the supplemen- 
tals when it moves contrary to this direction, a result which 
seems to show that in this case the tendency to error from 
contrast is in conflict with the normal influence of eye- 
movements, and the correction is made to increase the latter 
in one direction, and to diminish the former (or their sum) 
in the other direction. 

The entire number of rectifications of all kinds (about fa 
of the whole number of experiments) may be taken as a sort 


of quantitative indication of the function of second-judgment, 
or deliberation, upon sensory determinations of such a com- 
plex character as those involved in these experiments. It is 
interesting to note that this second judgment, however, does 
not tend in the general result to correct the error of first 
judgment; for there are about J more cases of rectifications 
by displacement toward S 1 (the direction of the error) than 
toward S. The only case in which the correction does work 
to give greater accuracy to the result is that of the use of 
the fixation method, where both the original and second 
judgments are comparatively free from eye-movements and 
their after effects. 

Finally, the great uniformity of the error of judgment is 
seen in the small number of cases (69 in the entire series of 
1,928 experiments) in which the mid-point was located in the 
direction opposite to the prevailing error (that is, located too 
far toward the large square). And even this number repre- 
sents too high a figure, since the sum of the variations of 
this kind in all but two series gave only 28 cases (i. e., in 
1,679 experiments); the two giving the very abnormally 
large figures 20 in 100 experiments (app. method, horiz. ar- 
rangement) and 21 in 149 experiments (fix. method, vert. 
arrangement) being evidently affected by some temporary 

A series of experiments has already been begun with a 
stationary stimulus (thus ruling out the influence of eye- 
movements); and I hope also to complicate the case with 
variations planned to introduce aesthetic elements into the 

BY j. MARK BALDWIN (with the assistance of W. J. Shaw.) 

The experiments reported in this article were carried 
out in the Toronto Laboratory in 189293. Three ques- 
tions were set for research, all of them bearing on the ques- 
tion of the degree of relativity of reaction times : either the 
difference of a single individual's times, according as there 



were subjective (attention) or objective (qualitative stimulus) 
changes in the conditions of his reaction ; or the differences 
of reaction times for different individuals under identical 
conditions. To secure results comparable in the respects in 
which comparisons were desired, certain precautions were 
made, as follows: (i) each reagent reacted at the same hour 
from day to day, and at the same hour with each other re- 
agent whose reaction was to be compared with his; (2) the 
order of change in the conditions of reaction (as sensory- 
motor, light-dark, visual-kinsesthetic, etc.) was kept in the 
main the same for the different reagents. 

The Hipp and D'Arsonval chronoscopes were used, both 
controlled by the records of a Konig tuning-fork recording 
on the drum of the Marey motor. The light ' reactions 
were taken in a room of good south morning exposure, and 
those in the dark, in a dark closet of the same room. The 
stimulus was in all cases an auditory one a sharp metallic 
click and the reacting movement was a pressure downward 
of the right forefinger (in the case of the D'Arsonval instru- 
ment, a pinch of that finger and the thumb). The reagents 
were, besides the writers (B. and S.), Mr. Faircloth (F.), 
a student who had had only the experience gained from the 
practical work in this subject of the course in Experimental 
Psychology. His reactions were ready and unconfused, and 
from all appearances he was a normal and more than usually 
suitable man for such work. The fourth, Mr. Crawford 
(C.), is an honor student in this subject in Princeton. His 
reactions were taken in the course of another investigation, 
and being so few in number, they are included only because 
they give a certain case of a capable reagent whose sensory 
is shorter than his motor reaction. We hope to test him 

I. Variations in the Results. Table I. shows the relative 
reliability of the two instruments in these experiments. 


TABLE I. Clock-corrections. 


Const. Error. 

Var. Error. 







All the results secured by each instrument are corrected, 
by the constant error of that instrument, before being used 
either for comparison among themselves or for compound- 
ing with the results of the other instrument, in the tables 
which follow. The smaller variable error of the Hipp chro- 
noscope makes the results of that instrument much more 
reliable in the matter of absolute time-measurement. But 
in the conclusions drawn below, only those results are used 
in which the quanity sought is a relative one, and in which 
the two clocks confirmed each other in giving ratios of 
difference of the two quantities compared, both of which are 
in the same sense, and each of which is larger than the 
largest possible ratio of difference arising from the variable 
error of the clock to which it belongs. 

The mean variations are not given in the tables which 
follow, because they are too complex to be of any value. 
These variations were different for the two clocks, as we 
would expect from the variable errors of the instruments 
themselves ; they also varied with the disposition of the sub- 
ject in the various groups of results which are treated to- 
gether. 1 The different mean variations for the different lots 
of experiments varied from 10 a- to 20 er. For this reason no 
deductions are attempted except those evident on the sur- 
face of the results themselves. 

II. Results: Sensory and Motor Reactions. Table II. gives 
the results of experiments on four persons designed to test 
the current distinction between ' sensory ' and motor (' mus- 
cular') reactions. 

1 Finer distinctions were aimed at in some of the series, such as placing the sound 
stimulus on one side only, or in the median plane below the head, etc., as well as 
arranging for the difference between light and dark environment. 



TABLE II. Types of Reaction. 


Kin. Motor. Vis. Motor. 

Av. Motor. 















in <r. 

in <r. 

in cr. 









1 60 

























It follows from Table II.: (i) that the current distinc- 
tion between sensory and motor reactions does not hold in 
the sense that the motor reaction is always shorter than the 
sensory, for in the case of F. the motor reaction is 40 <r 
longer, i. e., J of this subject's average sensory reaction 
time. (2) As between B. and S., in the case of each of 
whom the motor-time is shorter, there is a great difference 
in the relative length of the sensory to the motor. In B. 
the sensory time is only 18 <r, or about ^ longer than the 
motor, while in the case of S. the sensory is 48 a- longer, or 
about J; and this despite the close agreement of the two 
subjects in their absolute motor-time. We would seem to 
have, therefore, in these three observers three cases shown, 
two giving very pronounced results; one a longer motor 
time by J, and the other a longer sensor by J. The third 
subject, B., seems to fall between these extremes, giving a 
difference in favor of the motor reaction, it is true, but a 
much smaller difference. 

The tables also give us reason for accepting the truth of 
the distinction between two kinds of motor reaction. In 
both B. and S., whose motor reactions are shorter than the 
sensory, we find a difference in the length of the motor reac- 
tion according as the attention is given to the movement 
by thought of the hand, the eyes being blindfolded ; or as 
the attention is fixed upon the hand, which is seen. The 
former I have called the kincesthetic motor reaction, the latter 


the visual motor. In B. the visual motor is 220-, or about 
fy longer than the ' kinsesthetic ' that is, it is practically 
equal to this subject's sensory time; while in S. the kinaes- 
thetic motor is 1 1 <r shorter than the 'visual.' With F., on 
the contrary, there is no distinction between the two kinds, 
any possible trace of it seeming to be lost in the excessive 
preponderance, in facility, of the sensory kind of reaction. 

The table as a whole, then, supports the views: (i) when 
the motor reaction is short in relation to the sensory (case 
of S.), then this motor reaction is purest, freest from 
sensory influences, such as sight, etc. ; (2) when the motor 
reaction is not pure, then it is retarded by such influences as 
sight (case of B.); (3) where the motor reaction is relatively 
difficult and delayed, as compared with the sensory (case of 
F.), there this prime difference renders all kinds of motor 
reactions equally lengthy and hesitating. B. seems to stand 
midway between the two others in this respect. 

As I said some time ago, in making a first report upon the 
outcome of some of these experiments: 1 " In subjects of the 
motor type the ' kinaesthetic motor ' is shorter, the ' visual 
motor' time approximating the sensory reaction time." 

III. Light and Dark Reactions to Sound. The foregoing 
deductions concerning the difference between B. and S., as 
respects motor and sensory reactions, and also as respects 
the distinction between visual and kinaesthetic motor reac- 
tions, are confirmed by results of a research on the same two 
subjects, in which the attempt was made to investigate the 
influence of vision. Each reagent gave a series of reactions 
in the light of an ordinary laboratory room, and then re- 
peated the series under the same general conditions, but in 
a dark chamber. In this case, in order to make the results 
of the two series comparable, the kinassthetic form of motor 
reaction was necessary in the series taken in the light, since 
only that kind of motor reaction was possible in the dark. 
The results are given in Table III. 

*New York Medical Record, April 15, 1893, p. 455 f. 


TABLE III. Reactions in Light and Dark. 









in a-. 



in <T. 


in a. 


in a-. 














On examination the data of this table, compared with 
those of the preceding table, may be stated as follows : We 
find for B. that the sensory reaction is practically the same, 
whether he react in the dark or in the light (the latter is 
less by 8cr, which is insignificant in view of the variable 
error). This shows this subject's independence of vision in 
the sensory reaction to auditory stimulations, and is in 
agreement with the results of Table II. (in which there is 
a similar difference between the sensory and visual motor, 
the former being longer by 70-). S., on the other hand, 
shows a shortening of the sensory reaction when in the dark 
by 180-, but a lengthening of the motor reaction when in the 
dark by 210-, or about ^. The latter result shows this sub- 
ject's dependence upon vision only in the motor kind of re- 
action. 1 

IV. Interpretation. Admitting that these results indicate 
clearly the existence of persons whose sensory reactions to 
sound are shorter than their motor reactions, and that there 
is in some individuals a difference between the length of the 
motor reaction, according as it is made in the light or in the 
dark, we may make some general remarks on the theory oi 
these differences. These results should be compared with 
earlier ones, a matter which is made easier by reference to 
the concise summing up of the literature of the subject by 

1 The ' dark-reaction ' was not secured from F. , the ' sensory ' subject ; but we 
hope to report further results obtained from C. , the similar case now found in Princeton. 


Titchener in Mind. 1 We find cases of relatively shorter sen- 
sory times similar to mine reported (for electrical stimulus) 
by Cattell, 2 and (for sound stimulus) by Flournoy 3 . We may 
accordingly say that such individual differences are clearly 
established, and must hereafter be acknowledged and ac- 
counted for in any adequate theory of reaction. 

The attempt of Wundt, Kiilpe and others to rule these 
results out, on the ground of incompetency in the reagents, 
is in my opinion a flagrant argumentum in circulo. Their 
contention is that a certain mental Anlage or aptitude is 
necessary in order to experimentation on reaction-times. 
And when we ask what the Anlage is, we are told that the 
only indication of it is the ability of the reagent to turn out 
reactions which give the distinction between motor and sen- 
sory time, which Wundt and his followers consider the 
proper one. In other words, only certain cases prove their 
result, and these cases are selected because they prove that 
result. It is easy to see that this manner of procedure is 
subversive both of scientific method and of safely-acquired 
results in individual psychology. For the question comes: 
what of these very differences of individual Anlage? How 
did they arise ; what clo they mean ; why do they give differ- 
ent reaction-time results ? To neglect these questions, and 
rule out all Anlagen but one, is to get the psychology of 
some individuals and force it upon others, and thus to make 
the reaction-method of investigation simply the handmaid to 

The attempts to explain the relative shortness of the 
* muscular' reaction, also, by those who hold its shortness 
to be a universal fact, have been unfortunate. It has been 

^an., 1895, p. 74. 

*P kilos. Studien, VIII., 403. 

*Arck. des Set. Phy. et Nat., XXVII., p. 575, and XXVIII., p. 319. Titchener, 
in his summing up, does not cite the cases of Flournoy nor the earlier report of one of 
my present cases (F.) in the Medical Record, Apl. 15, 1893, although they tell directly 
against his own views. My earliest case was noted by me in the autumn of 1892, and 
the note in the Medical Record was written in December, 1892, before I saw either 
Cattell's or Flournoy's articles. The sentences quoted from my Senses and Intellect 
by Titchener in Mind, loc. cit. , were based upon my own reaction-times, taken earlier 
when I had no reason to doubt the universality of the experience, as claimed by Lange 
and Wundt. Titchener is accordingly wrong in citing me as favoring that position. 


held that the muscular reaction is shorter because it is semi- 
automatic; the thought of a movement, i. e., attention to it, 
being already the beginning of the innervations necessary ta 
its production. This is very^ true as a principle, I think; 
but it is just the application of this principle which makes it 
necessary on the part of some to restrict reaction work to 
people of a special aptitude. For in all those cases, either 
of particular reactions in one individual or of all reactions 
in other individuals, in which the movement is not so clearly 
picturable as to be firmly and steadily held in the attention, 
to these cases the principle does not apply. On the con- 
trary, to all cases where it is difficult to get the attention 
fixed upon a motor representative of the movement, a very 
different principle applies, as Prof. Cattell has said. The 
very attempt to picture a movement as a movement by put- 
ting the attention on its motor aspect in consciousness 
embarrasses, confuses and delays the execution of that move- 
ment in these cases. If a marksman attend to his finger 
on the trigger he misses the target ; if a ball-player attend 
to his hands he * muffs ' the ball ; if a musician think of each 
finger-movement he breaks down. The musician in the la- 
boratory is usually, indeed, a glaring instance of unsuitable 
A nlage ! 

So it is evident that these two principles need reconcil- 
ing in their application to reaction-times, the principles, i. e., 
(i), that the thought of a movement already begins it, facilitates 
if, quickens it ; and (2) that attention to a practised movement, in 
many instances, embarrasses it, hinders it, lengthens it. 

Now the practical reconciliation of just these two prin- 
ciples has been made in another great department of fact, 
and the actual plotting done of the cerebral arrangements 
which underlie them a solution which has such evident appli- 
cation here that I wonder at its tardy appreciation. I refer 
to the work in the pathology of aphasia, and the general 
theory of mental ' types ' which now goes for a safe discov- 
ery in the discussions of internal speech,' < sensory vs. motor 
defects' of speech, etc. I published early in 1893* an hy- 

1 See the Medical Record (N. Y.), loc. cit. 


pothesis to account for the variations in this matter of reac- 
tion-time differences, in these words : 

"I have endeavored incidentally, in an article now in print for 
the July issue of the Philosophical RevieivJ- to account for the con- 
flicting results of experiment in this field, by borrowing from the 
medical psychologists the results of their brilliant analysis of the 
speech function, on the basis of its pathology. The recognition of 
the great forms of aphasia /. e. t sensory and motor and the cor- 
responding recognition of the existence of visual, auditory, and 
motor speech types, gives a strong presumption that the distinction 
between sensory and motor in the voluntary movements of speech 
and writing applies as well to voluntary movements of all kinds; that 
is, to all movements which have been learned by attention and 
effort. This means that a man is an 'auditive,' or a 'visual,' or a 
'motor' in his voluntary movements generally. His attention is 
trained by habit, education, etc., more upon one class of images 
than upon others, his mind fills up more easily with images of this 
class, and his mental processes and voluntary reactions proceed by 
preference along these channels of easiest function. 

"If this be true, it is evident that a man's reaction-time will 
show the influence of his memory type. The motor-reaction we 
should expect to be most abbreviated in the man of the motor type; 
and less abbreviated, or not so at all, in the 'visual' or 'auditory' 
man. And experimental results must perforce show extraordinary 
variations as long as these typical varieties are not taken account of. 
We are accordingly, I think, a long way off from any such exact 
statement of absolute difference between sensory and motor reaction- 
time as Wundt makes in his last edition." 2 

It was a sense of the great naturalness and probability 
of this hypothesis that led me early in the fall of 1892 to 
institute the experiments on ' visual ' and kinaesthetic ' 
motor reactions whose results are given above in this paper.* 

The secure establishing of cases which show sensory re- 
actions shorter than motor (i. e., the cases now reported by 
Cattell, Flournoy and myself), together with the probable 

1 Article entitled " Internal Speech and Song," Phil. Rev., July, 1893. 

* Physiologische Psychologic, 3d ed., II., p. 261 ff. 

8 At the Philadelphia meeting of the American Psychological Association, on Dec. 
28, 1892, I proposed the hypothesis informally to several American psychologists. 
Dr. Lightner Witmer will remember a conversation in which the point was remarked 
upon. I venture to make these personal explanations since a somewhat similar expla- 
nation of his cases was advanced by Prof. Flournoy, of Geneva, in the articles cited 
above. I was not acquainted with Prof. Flournoy's views until, a year later at the 
New York meeting of the Association, Prof. Cattell brought them to my attention, as 
given in abstracts in the Revue Philosophique and the Zeit. fur Psych. I return to 
Flournoy's position later on in this paper. 


distinction between the visual ' and ' kinassthetic ' forms of 
motor time, make it advisable that this hypothesis should be 
put in clearer evidence. I shall therefore proceed to state 
the case for it briefly on the basis of the facts as they are 
now known. 

The doctrine of ' types ' rests upon certain facts which 
may be briefly summed up. A voluntary motor perform- 
ance say speech depends in each particular exercise of it, 
upon the possibility of getting clearly in mind (inttrieur, 
inner lick] some mental picture, image, presentation, which has 
come to stand for or represent the particular movements 
involved. This mental ' cue ' or representative may belong 
to either of two great classes : it may be a * sensory ' cue or 
a ' motor ' cue. People are of the sensory type or of the 
motor type for speech according as their cue in speech is 
sensory or motor; that is, according as in speaking they 
think of the sounds of the words as heard, the look of the 
words as written, etc. the cues furnished by the special 
senses associated habitually with speech this on the one 
hand ; or according as, on the other hand, they think of or 
have in mind the movements of the vocal organs, lips, 
tongue, etc., involved in speech. In the 'motor' people 
there are incipient movements in mind ; in the ' sensory ' peo- 
ple there are special sense images in mind. All this is now 
so clear from the pathological cases examined that the 
theory of localization of brain areas and their connections is 
applied to the successful exploration of damages of the brain 
when aphasic symptoms furnish the main diagnostic resource. 

Now, let us see how in these cases of aphasia the two 
principles spoken of are applied. Suppose we agree with 
the neurologists in saying that the function of the ' cue '- 
the mental image, be it either motor or sensory, which when 
thought of enables a man to speak is to release energy from 
its own brain-seat, along association fibres or pathways, to 
the motor-seat which sends its discharges out to bring 
about the movement. Then the difference between sensory 
and motor people is simply that different centres different 
4 cue '-seats have these connections with the motor speech 
centres best or better developed. A man who speaks best 


when he thinks of the sounds of the words has his best 
' cue '-seat in the auditory centre ; and his best pathway to 
the speech motor-centre goes out from this 'cue '-seat. 
For the man who speaks best when he thinks of the utter- 
ance of words, the same may be said of the muscle-sense seat. 

So it is evident apart quite from the question as to how 
one or other state of things comes to be as it is in any one 
case that with one man attention is directed to the move- 
ment for the best results, with another to the sensation or 
special memory image in best association with the move- 
ment. With the former the thought of the movement begins 
the movement. But with the other, if the best doing of the 
movement comes from thinking of a sensation or special 
image, then the movement will be relatively deranged, embar- 
rassed, when the attention is drawn from this sensation and 
forced to fix itself upon the movement itself. These, then, 
are the two principles we desiderate, and they are both natu- 
ral parts of the 'type' theory. 

So why not generalize this ? Speech cannot be con- 
sidered an exceptional function in its rise and mechanism. 
Other complex motor functions show the same kinds or types 
of execution : handwriting, music performing, etc. 1 The hand 
has, next to the tongue possibly, the most delicate, varied 
and differentiated functions to perform ; and the laws of asso- 
ciation by which sensory cues, checks, controls, are affixed 
to hand actions and combinations, must be the same as those 
involved in speech. So in simple hand movements people 
must show the sensory and motor types. This is my hy- 

The man, therefore, who gives relatively shorter motor 
reactions is a motor ' in his type ; with him the thought of 
movement is the most facile beginning of the movement, 
just because it is really the movement, and nothing else, that 
he thinks of. That is his Anlage. But the man who gives 
relatively shorter sensory (auditory, visual) reactions, is a 
* sensory ' in his type : with him the attempt to think of the 

1 See my Mental Development : Methods and Processes, pp. 91 ff., and 438 ff. 
In Chap. XIV. of that work, on ' The Mechanism of Revival,' I have endeavored to 
put in evidence the general principles which underlie the type theory. 



movement as a movement interferes with the prompt and 
exact execution of it, just because he is not accustomed to 
execute his movements in that way. That is his Anlage. 
But, of course, the two sorts of people have equal claim to 
recognition in science. Suppose a dead aphasic brought for 
autopsy to a surgeon, who inquires into the life-history of 
the man, and finding that he was of the sensory type, then 
declares that the body is not fit for a scientific autopsy, be- 
cause the man did not have the proper type of aphasia! As 
a matter of fact, so near are the disciples of Wundt to the 
explanation by types that it is only necessary to translate 
their word A nlage by 'type,' and then apply the connota- 
tions of that term in the examination of refractory cases, to 
bring them into line. I may accordingly sum up in the 
words of my earlier article (Philos. Rev., II, 395): 

"We have in this fact of types the explanation of the contradic- 
tory results reached by different investigators in the matter of motor 
reactions. Some find motor reactions shorter, as I have said above; 
others do not. The reason is, probably, that in some subjects the 
'sensory' type is so pronounced that the attention cannot be held 
on the muscular reaction without giving confusion and an abortive 
result. On the other hand, some persons are so clearly ' motor ' in 
ordinary life, that sensory reaction is in like manner artificial, and 
its time correspondingly long. And yet again others may be neu- 
tral as regards sensor or motor preferences. If this be true, an- 
other element of * abounding uncertainty ' is introduced into all the 
results of experiments so far performed in this field, as reflection on 
the matter will show." 

One or two further points, however, may be made which 
give the correct interpretation more importance than the 
simple facts in themselves really have. . In the first place, 
an additional tendency seems to show itself when move- 
ments become very habitual a tendency recognized in all 
discussions of the principle of habit. Habitual perform- 
ances tend to become independent of consciousness, atten- 
tion, thought, altogether. This tendency should make itself 
evident in reaction-time work, and reagents of great practise 
should show, (i) diminishing time in all reactions, and (2) 
diminishing difference between the two kinds of times, sen- 
sory and muscular. Further, the same tendency should 
.show itself in a diminishing difference 'between Individuals 


of different types as they both get more practise. All these 
results are, I think, clearly shown in those of the earlier re- 
searches in which the amount of practise is reported. 1 

And, again, finer distinctions of type follow from the 
general theory : such distinctions as those clearly established 
for speech. The ' visual,' < auditory,' and possibly (as in the 
blind) ' touch ' types of speech are all included under the 
head of sensory. As I have said, the speech case is a case 
of finer reaction-time distinctions. And the hand, as used 
in most reaction experiments, ought to show to a greater or 
less degree similar distinctions. 2 The cases so far discov- 
ered of relatively shorter sensory reactions seem to be, as 
far as reported, auditory (musicians) and visual (Flournoy's). 
To determine between * visual ' and auditory ' times for any 
individual, of course the same set of reaction experiments 
should be made with the two classes of stimulations, each 
being compared with the muscular reactions to the same 
stimulus respectively. 

The general result follows (if this hypothesis get accept- 
ance) that the reaction-time experiment becomes of use 
mainly as & method. Distinctions supposed to be established 
once for all by various researches must be considered as 
largely individual results, inasmuch as the authors have not 
reported on the type of the reagent. But for that very rea- 
son these results may have great value, as themselves indi- 
cating in each case this very thing, the type of one single 
reagent, and in so far some of the general characteristics of 
that type. What we now desiderate in a great many de- 
partments, as, for example, in the treatment of school chil- 
dren, and in the diagnosis of complex mental troubles, is 
just some method of discovering the type of the individual 

1 Consequently it does not do to say, with Wundt and Klilpe, that the * muscu- 
lar ' reaction is more automatic. Of course it is so in those who give a shorter motor 
reaction that is sufficient proof of it. But that the sensory time is shorter in others 
is sufficient proof, also, that in their case the sensory reaction is more automatic . 
Klilpe's two-arm reaction experiment is subject to this criticism, among others (see 
Wundt, /of. cit., p. 325 ; KUlpe's Grundriss, pp. 422 f.). 

8 A possible instance of such variation is seen in the case of Bonders, which 
Wundt has difficulty with (Phys. Psych., III 8 ., II., p. 268). Say the reagent was 
* visual ' in his type, and we have reason for his shorter reactionto light than to sound, 
while he still falls under the sensory type in general. 


in hand. If reactions vary in certain great ways, according 
to the types which they illustrate, then in reaction experi- 
mentation we have a great objective method of study. But 
before the method can be called in any way complete, there 
should be a detailed re-investigation of the whole question, 
with a view to the great distinctions of mental type already 
made out by the pathologists. 1 

A word should be added concerning the position of Pro- 
fessor Flournoy. The hypothesis which I have advanced 
has been attributed also to Flournoy, his name being con- 
nected with mine as independent advocates of it (by Cattell,, 
Titchener, etc.). I think this is a mistake, at least so far as the 
publications of Professor Flournoy are taken as evidence. His 
case, cited as of the ' type visuel,' seems to imply the exist- 
ence of other types it is true ; and at the close of his second 
article he raises the question, "si la fac,on de reagir ob- 
serv6e chez M. Y., n'est qu'une singularite individuelle, ou 
si elle est un fait general et constant dans le type visuel d'im- 
agination." But what he means in the context by ' type 
visuel ' is not what is meant by that phrase in the general- 
ized usage of the pathologists. His case is * visual ' in the 
sense that the man thinks of movements by a visual picture 
of his arm, rather than by muscle-sense images (just what I 
have distinguished above as * visual motor ' in distinction 
from kinaesthetic motor;' and the case is a fine confirmation 
of the conclusions given above under that head). But it 
does not follow that the man is a 'visual' in the broader 
sense. He might just as likely be an 'auditive.' The 
most that can be said of Flournoy's case, on the general 
doctrine of types other evidence aside is that he is sen- 
sory,' and on my theory his shorter sensory reaction-time 
proves it. But Flournoy makes no such general application 
of the theory of types. Indeed, in asking the question 
which I have quoted from him (i. e., whether all visuals 
would react as this man did), he shows that he does not mean 

*I have earlier indicated (Med. Record, loc. cit., and P kilos. Rev., loc. '/.), the 
possible use of this method by brain surgeons, an idea which Wallaschek comments oa 
with approval. Certain general indications from reaction-times are already recognized 
by physicians, especially in investigating various anaesthesias. 


to bring reactions generally under the type theory. For the 
real ' visual ' might give a shorter visual motor ' than sen- 
sory ' time i. e., when the stimulus reacted to is other than 
visual (say auditory) ; since then the visualizing habit would 
throw its influence on the side of the motor reaction. 

In the matter of the distinction between visual motor' 
and ' kinassthetic motor' reactions, however, Flournoy's 
case clearly anticipated mine in print. 1 



The following experiments were undertaken in connec- 
tion with some other series, with a view to determining the 
manner in which conflicting data from different senses are 
harmonized. As they have, in addition to this, a special 
bearing on the sense of rotation, it seems best to give their 
results separately. The particular object of this investiga- 
tion was to determine the relative influence of sight and the 
internal sense of rotation on the subjective estimate of move- 
ment. Messrs. W. J. Shaw and G. A. Tawney kindly acted 
as subjects during the entire series, which consisted of 
sittings about 20 minutes long, twice a week, extending over 
a period of four months in the early part of the year 1894. 

The experiments were conducted in a dark room, 8x8 ft. 
The subject lay at full length on his back on a rotation-board, 
with the head somewhat raised and eyes so screened as to 
permit of his seeing only a small area of wall in front. At 
the foot of the board, and covering entirely his restricted 
field of vision, was a large screen with an aperture eight 
inches square, behind which a mirror could be hung. On 
two opposite walls of the room were hung strips of white 
paper, an inch wide, reaching nearly from ceiling to floor, 
and placed about a foot apart, which could be seen plainly in 
a very faint light, when no other outlines or shadows were 

1 Since revising the proofs of this article I have received a note from M. Flour- 
noy in which he says: "Je suis, d'une fa9n generate, d'accord avec vous sur 
1'influence du type d'imagination " (making reference to my article in the Medical 

274 H - c - WARREN. 

distinguishable on the screen or wall. When the subject 
closed his eyes, or the board was turned so that no strips 
were visible, the usual phenomena of rotary sensation were 
observed; the least discernible movement was i a second; 
a movement greater than this, if continued, gradually ceased 
to be noticeable, and any change in the rate was then inter- 
preted as a new movement starting from a state of rest. 
But when the subject, believing himself to be at rest, was 
turned so that the strips came into view, a conflict arose 
between the internal sense and the visual sense, which had 
to be reconciled by some mode of interpreting the data. 
The experiments included trials both with and without the 
mirror, the subject never knowing whether the mirror was 
in or not. 1 

(i) With the minimum light by which the strips were 
discernible, the sense of sight played no role whatever in the 
judgment, the strips appearing sometimes to flit across the 
field of vision, and sometimes to move with the subject, 
according to the data furnished by the internal sense. 
(2) With an illumination ranging from one to six candles, 
visual impressions strengthened the internal sense of move- 
ment when they agreed, or tended to inhibit it when the 
conflict was not too great. Thus, with the mirror removed, 
the sight of the strips made even the slightest movement 
perceptible, and checked the sensation of reversed move- 
ment which occurs after a real movement ceases. With the 
mirror in, the least perceptible movement was between 
i and 2 per second. Movements greater than this were 
usually interpreted (when the strips were visible) as lateral 
movements of progression in the direction in which the head was 
actually moving. A sudden stop converted this into a judg- 
ment of rotation in the opposite direction. Sometimes, how- 
ever, especially with very rapid movements, they were 

1 One of the subjects (T.) did not know of the mirror at all until the series was 
nearly completed. S. generally could not tell whether it was in or not ; I questioned 
him at the end of each sitting, and found that, as a matter of fact, he never considered 
it in making his judgments, being too busy observing and reporting. T. was more 
inclined to dizziness than S., and his experiences were consequently less distinct and 
his answers less uniform. In general the two subjects agreed. I also confirmed a 
number of the results here given by experiments on myself. 


interpreted as rotary, and the strips were declared to be 
moving also, but faster than the subject. (3) With a bright 
gas jet burning, the corners of the walls and many other out- 
lines were plainly visible, and gave more general indications 
of a stable environment than the strips afforded. The judg- 
ment of progressive movement now occurred uniformly, except 
when the board was started with a sudden jar; the subject 
was unable to rid himself of the illusion ; he would seem to 
be moving steadily sideways, even though he knew the im- 
possibility of doing so in a small room. The writer con- 
firmed these results personally. (4) In the final series the 
subject sat upright at the center of the board, with his head 
slightly in front of the center of rotation. In this position 
the interpretation of the movement as progressive is im- 
possible, if the internal sensations in the head are regarded ; 
and as a matter of fact no such judgment was given. Care- 
ful and repeated measurement by the metronome gave the 
following results, with the mirror in and a very strong light 
(two gas-jets): (a] Movements of less than 2 per second 
were judged to be objective merely, (b) Movements of 2- 
5 per second were interpreted as subjective, but in the 
reverse direction from that in which they were actually 
occurring; i. e., they were felt as movements, but their 
direction was determined not by the internal sense, but by 
sight, and they were thought to be in the opposite direction 
on account of the mirror, (c) Movements greater than 5 per 
second were interpreted correctly, with the remark that the 
wall was moving also in the same direction as the feet, and 
faster. The transition from (b) to (c) was very distinct; 
several times the speed was varied during the trial from 
greater to less than 5, or vice versa, and each time there 
was an immediate change of judgment as to the direction of 
the movement. A single ' trial' in this case was always 
limited to 10 sec., in order to avoid the feeling of 'slowing 
up' which accompanies uniform movement. 

Aside from the last-mentioned phenomenon, which be- 
longs more properly to the general subject of conflict among 
sense impressions, the most noteworthy result was the trans- 
formation of rotary into progressive movement, by means of 

276 H. C. WARREN. 

visual data. Suppose the actual movement to be clock- wise. 
The head moves to the left, the feet to the right, and the 
strips and wall reflected beyond the feet are carried much 
faster to the right. But only the difference between the 
rate of the feet and the rate of the back-ground is taken into 
account; the back-ground is considered stationary, and the 
movement is interpreted as a movement of the subject bodily 
to the left. We may infer from this that the end-organ of 
the internal sense of rotation is in the head alone, since 
movements of the lower extremities are open to such absolute 
misjudgment. We are also led to the conclusion that 
the organ for the sense of rotation is the same as that for 
progressive movement. This is directly contrary to the con- 
clusion reached by Delage, who denies that the sense-organ 
for progressive movement is in the head, while admitting it 
for rotary movement. 1 These results, moreover, seem to 
favor the view that the semi-circular canals constitute that 
organ, in spite of the objections recently raised by Ayers 
and others on morphological grounds. 2 A special sense- 
organ seems requisite for such a sense, and the above results 
tend to locate that organ in the head. In our experiments 
the sense of sight was made to furnish data of movement 
independent of the internal sense. In the head the latte] 
sense was so strong that, within the given limits of visual 
field and luminosity, a conflict between the two senses in- 
variably resulted in its favor, and any movement observed 
merely visually was attributed to the objects in the environ- 
ment. Yet when the lower extremities were moving quite 
rapidly in one direction they were constantly declared to be 
moving in the other, on the testimony of visual data. The 
'internal sense' of movement must therefore be due to 
something other than the general indication furnished by the 
vaso-motor system, which would affect all parts of the body 

1 Physiologische Studien Uber die Orientirung, von Delage ; deutsch von H. 
Aubert; pp. 94-95. 

a Journal of Morphol. 1892, VI, pp. 237-256. 




I was much interested this summer in the curious sensa- 
tions produced by a purely optical illusion, known as the 
'Haunted Swing,' at the Midwinter Fair in San Francisco. 
On entering the building we found ourselves in a spacious 
cubical room, furnished with a sofa, table, chairs, etc., a 
massive iron safe, and a piano, together with other minor 
articles. But the most conspicuous object was the huge 
swing, capable of holding forty or more persons, which hung 
in the centre, suspended from an iron cylinder which passed 
through the centre of the room. We took our seats and the 
swing was put in motion, the arc gradually increasing in 
amplitude until each oscillation carried us apparently into 
the upper corners of the room. Each vibration of the swing 
caused those peculiar ' empty ' sensations within which one 
feels in an elevator; and as we rushed backwards toward the 
top of the room there was a distinct feeling of ' leaning for- 
ward,' if I can so describe it such as one always experi- 
ences in a backward swing, and an involuntary clutching at 
the seats to keep from being pitched out. We were then 
told to hold on tightly as the swing was going clear over, and, 
sure enough, so it did, though the illusion was not so per- 
fect as the high oscillations. 

The device was worked in the following way : The swing 
proper was practically at rest, merely being joggled a trifle, 
while the room itself was put in motion, the furniture being 
fastened down to the floor, so that it could be turned com- 
pletely over. The illusion was good, though the absence of 
centrifugal force, and the fact that the swing did not move 
with uniform acceleration as it descended, would indicate to 
a careful observer that he was not swinging freely. The 
curious and interesting feature however, was, that even 
though the action was fully understood, as it was in my case, 
it was impossible to quench the sensations of 'goneness 
within ' with each apparent rush of the swing. The minute 
the eyes were shut the sensations vanished instantly. Many 
persons were actually made sick by the illusion. I have met 



a number of gentlemen who said they could scarcely walk 
out of the building from dizziness and nausea. I myself ex- 
perienced no sensations of dizziness, being accustomed to 
heights and to rapid motion ; but the sensation before de- 
scribed was always present (and I visited the place several 
times), though I tried to suppress it and reason against it. 



In the course of a late operation upon one of my teeth I 
experienced a very powerful and distinct sensation of heat 
whenever the dental instrument touched a very thin layer 
of the tooth substance (dentine) which still remained protect- 
ing the ' pulp ' from exposure. 

The well-known Dr. Frank Abbott, who operated upon 
my tooth, and whose long and wide experience enables him 
to speak with authority, assures me that this sensation of 
heat is entirely independent of the temperature of the instru- 
ment employed: that in his experience he finds that any 
mechanical irritation of the dentinal fibers, when inflamed, 
will produce this sensation of burning, it being especially 
marked when the fibres are dragged asunder by the revolv- 
ing instruments often used. The same heat sensation is 
produced, he tells me, by the rapid absorption of moisture 
produced by placing against this highly sensitive tissue a 
bit of ' spunk' or < bulbulous paper,' or other rapid-absorbing 
substance. The substance called ' spunk,' which he uses for 
this purpose, is supposed to be nothing more than a tree 
fungus of especially fine fibrous nature. 

It is apparent that we have here a production of heat 
sensations by stimulations which do not correspond in any 
evident way with the stimulations that produce heat in the 
'heat spots' on the surface of the skin. I think it well 
to make note of these particular dental experiences in order 
that those who may be investigating the nature of the pro- 
cesses involved in the production of our sensations of heat and 
cold may upon occasion verify them, and may coordinate 
them with the more familiar means of heat production in the 
formulation of their theories. 


Considerable interest attaches to the recent articles on Emotion 
by Professors Baldwin and Dewey. Both these writers are in favor 
of the James theory, but each has arrived at his results in his own 
way, and has his own view with regard to the weak points of the 
original statement of the theory and the value of the emendations 
that have recently been made. I do not propose, however, to deal 
with all the points of interest here involved. I shall merely discuss 
briefly the main arguments brought forward. 

Professor Dewey contends that "all so-called expressions of 
emotion are in reality the reduction of movements and stimulations 
originally useful into attitudes" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 569). They are 
explicable by reference to useful acts, and therefore cannot be de- 
duced from an antecedent emotion. Now, the term ' expression of 
emotion ' is ambiguous, not only in denotation, but also in connota- 
tion. Few would assert that the bodily changes usually signified by 
this mode of speech are primarily intended to show that a cer- 
tain individual has a particular emotion. The majority of psycholo- 
gists would agree that the movements in question are in the main 
ideologically conditioned. The question is, whether you can con- 
clude from this that they cannot be regarded as the outcome of 
some antecedent emotion. Professor Dewey's argument depends 
on the assumption that no useful action can be explained by refer- 
ence to emotion. But surely the natural supposition is that so 
prominent a fact of consciousness has some function, and therefore 
directly or indirectly influences our actions. Professor Dewey himself 
says that "hope, fear, delight, sorrow, terror, love are too im- 
portant and too relevant in pur lives ttrbe in the main the 'feel* of 
bodily attitudes which have themselves no meaning" (Psv. REV., I, 
6> 563). It is hard to see how these can be important or relevant 
in our lives, if it is enough to dissociate an action from them to show 
that it has a purpose or end. I do not assert that all the bodily 
changes, internal and external, are the result of emotion. My con- 
tention is that it does not follow, merely because movements are 



purposive, that they have no connection with emotion ; and, fur- 
ther, that it would be a strange thing if this conclusion were correct. 

We must now consider how far the detailed account of the bodily 
changes supports the ' effect ' theory. A distinction is drawn, im- 
plicitly at all events, between the internal organic disturbance and 
those outward movements which are actions in the true sense, since 
they are directed towards some end. With regard to the latter, no 
explanation is given. All that is done is to show that they are 
directly teleological. It is first assumed that emotion can have no 
connection with useful actions, and then actions of this sort are 
simply taken for granted. If, however, they cannot be deduced 
from the emotion, it is legitimate to demand some account of their 
origin. It cannot be too strongly emphasized that the so-called 
' cause ' theory has an intelligible explanation to offer, while the 
* effect ' theory is silent on the point. Further, as Professor Bald- 
win brings out so clearly, it is not easy to see how any explanatioi 
can be given, on the principles of the latter view, which will fit in1 
a theory of development. 

A complication is introduced by the fact that some of these 
movements, such as the crouching of fear and the clenching of th( 
fist in anger, are reflex. It is easy to understand, however, that 
once these actions have been voluntarily performed under the influ- 
ence of a certain emotion, they arise reflexly in circumstances simi- 
lar to those with which they were first connected. The identity of 
circumstance redintegrates the old movements, and so emotioi 
and action appear simultaneously. In these cases, of course, the 
bodily changes are not caused by the particular emotion which the] 
accompany. On the other hand, these reflexes are not the only 
' expressions ' of emotion. The original expression of anger, for 
instance, was doubtless a blow. The clenching of the fist points to 
restraining influences. But, though we do not now use crude physi- 
cal measures exclusively, civilization does not leave us altogether 
helpless. The covert sneer, the insulting stare, the cutting remark 
are at our service. These and similar purposive actions require to 
be accounted for. The natural thing is to regard them as the 
effects of the emotion. There is an intelligible relation between 
them and the psychical state. An individual possessed with hate of 
some person will tell you that ' he feels as if he could ' do him all 
sort of injury. It is reasonable to suppose that this feeling condi- 
tions the action of retaliation. When it is asserted that this pecu- 
liar feeling towards the person only arrives after the action has 
actually taken place, we are at liberty to entertain a doubt in the 


matter. When we find that no explanation whatever is given of the 
appearance of the action, our doubt will scarcely be diminished. 

The organic changes, then, which are directly teleological, must 
be regarded as falling into two classes, namely, reflexes and volun- 
tary movements. As Professor Baldwin shows, the effect-theory 
does not and cannot afford any explanation of the origin of the 
former in the first instance. The latter can scarcely be said to be 
taken into account at all, for the view is not worked out in detail. 
Cases like fear are used as instances where the action is practically 
the same under all circumstances, so that the reflex and the volun- 
tary movements coincide. 1 

The internal organic changes remain, and Professor Dewey really 
faces the question here by attempting to show how they can be 
accounted for without reference to an antecedent emotion. They 
result from "the effort of the organism to adjust its formed habits 
or coordinations of the past to present necessities as made known in 
perception or idea. The emotion is psychologically the adjustment 
or tension of habit and ideal, and the organic changes are the literal 
working out in concrete terms of the struggle of adjustment " (Psv. 
REV., II, i, p. 30). The habitual reaction does not harmonize with 
the mode of action which the present circumstances seem to demand. 
Hence there is a conflict, and, as a result of this, disturbances of 
visceral and associated organs, "which is just what we might expect 
when there is a great stirring up of energy preparatory to activity, 
but no defined channel of discharge" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 565). It is 
not easy to understand why the habitual reaction should assert itself 
so strongly in circumstances where it is obviously so much out of 
place, and insist on being ' coordinated ' with the new mode of be- 
havior. Nor is it obvious how emotion can be the ' tension of habit 
and ideal,' prior to action, when it is first constituted after the action 
has taken place (II. i. pp. 18, 22). Leaving these points undis- 
cussed, let us ascertain the results which follow from the explana- 
tion of the internal organic agitation here given. In the first place, 
the course taken by the deflected energy would seem to be mechani- 
cally determined as Professor James suggests (Principles of Psycholo- 
gy, II., p. 482). It will be dependent" on the individual organism 
and its state at the moment. Professor Dewey is quick to see the 
effect of this. "If the bodily attitude is wholly accidental, then 
the emotion itself is brute and insignificant, upon a theory which 

1 In this connection one might safely venture the assertion that the theory under 
discussion would not seem so convincing if it were applied all round, instead of being 
stated generally, and merely illustrated by one or two favorable instances. 

282 D. IKONS. 

holds that emotion is the 'feel' of such an attitude" (I, 6, p. 563). 
He finds it ' more or less intolerable ' that any idiopathic effects 
should be l purely mechanical outpourings through the easiest avail- 
able channel,' and maintains that the easiest path is determined by 
habits which, upon the whole, were evolved as useful (I, 6, p. 563). 
It would be very difficult, however, to prove that the bodily excite-' 
ment could ever have been useful ; and until such proof is offered, 
the ' intolerable ' supposition of Professor James must be regarded 
as the more probable. 

In the second place, under whatever circumstances the energy is 
aroused, the same amount spreading through the same organism at 
the same time will have the same effects. There is simply so much 
energy which is under a mechanical necessity to find an outlet. 
That the special occasion has no influence in determining the actual 
channels of discharge is rendered more obvious when we remember 
that the whole process is necessary just because action, appropriate 
to the particular case, has been inhibited. In every emotional state 
of the same intensity, therefore, the physical agitation will be prac- 
tically the same ; and this is a result more than serious to those who- 
assert that the bodily changes cause the emotion. When the alleged 
causes are so much alike, why should the psychical effects be so^ 
widely different ? 

I do not criticise Professor Dewey for attempting to account for 
the internal organic disturbance without reference to emotion. It 
seems to me that he has shown that the phenomenon in question can- 
not be regarded as an effect of the emotion ; and, further, that he 
has indicated the right principle * by which its origin is to be under- 
stood. My point is that the consequences have been shown to be 
disastrous to the theory he has adopted. For instance, one of the 
great difficulties which has to be met is that the bodily changes do 
not vary sufficiently in the case of different emotions, while they 
vary too much in different instances of the same emotion. The ob- 
jection on this score was formerly made on the ground of empirical 
observation. Now, we can not only urge that the fact is so, but 
give a reason why, in the nature of things, it should be as it is. The 
escape of deflected energy is the cause of the internal effects, and 
these form the greater part of the whole mass of bodily change. 
Since the process is under mechanical law, the effects vary with the 
state of the organism ; and this accounts for the fact that the same 

1 The principle must be worked out more fully, however, and freed from irrelevant 
additions. In all probability, too, it will be found necessary to supplement it to some 
extent by others. 


emotion may at different times have different physical accompani- 
ments. Further, under any outward circumstances a given amount 
of energy will always produce the same results if the inward phys- 
ical conditions remain unaltered ; and this explains why, in all states 
of equal intensity, the organic changes are substantially the same. 

On the other hand, it seems possible for opponents of the effect- 
theory to state their views, so as to include and harmonize all the 
facts. You cannot proceed on the assumption that emotion must 
be either the cause or the effect of the physical changes. In the first 
place, the term 'physical change' is wide and vague. It covers move- 
ments, purposively reflex, voluntary, and mechanically determined. In 
the second place, the antithesis is false, for there is a third possibility, 
namely, that the psychical and physical aspects are independent of 
each other and yet concomitant. It is possible to hold, therefore, 
that some of the bodily changes are effects of the emotion, that 
others are independent of it, and that the emotion is in turn inde- 
pendent of the latter. When danger threatens, for example, it is 
possible to imagine that the perception is followed at once by fear 
and an arousal of energy, while certain actions or tendencies to 
action are called forth by association. All these arise simulta- 
neously. We have at once the emotion of fear, the excitation of 
energy, and the tendency to crouch or run away. In the case of the 
first emotion of the kind, the third effect would not be present as a 
direct consequence of the cognition. The psychical state is a feel- 
ing with reference to the impending event prompting us to action of 
a certain kind with regard to it. The energy excited renders it 
possible for this action to be carried out with speed and vigor. If 
flight is out of the question, the energy diffuses itself through the 
organism and produces the violent organic paroxysm of intense ter- 
ror. If the danger can be avoided and the means are suggested, 
the energy is used up for the most part in carrying out the neces- 
sary movements. Still a certain quantity always discharges itself 
through the body, for more energy is aroused than is absolutely 
necessary, and in most instances an interval must elapse before 
means can be found and the action put in train. Even though the 
purposive action is not inhibited, therefore, a certain degree of 
physical agitation is always present. I have purposely taken one of 
the cases which is most favorable to the effect-theory. The organic 
perturbation is not nearly so marked when, as in hate for instance, 
immediate and decisive action is not so vitally essential. The emo- 
tion may be as strong, however, for the physical changes vary in 
strength and prominence, not with the psychical concomitant, but 

284 D - 

with the practical demands of the situation. Further, it is only in 
an instance, as simple as the one I have chosen, that it can be main- 
tained with any show of plausibility that reflex action accounts for 
all the movements involved. In more complicated cases more com- 
plicated actions are necessary, and it is not so easy to exclude from 
consideration the influence of the purely psychical aspect of the con- 
crete emotional state. 

I can only refer to Professor Baldwin's interesting paper in so far 
as it bears on the special point now under discussion. This writer 
argues that "though habit means subsiding consciousness, it is just 
those ' expressive ' reactions which are most instinctive, that carry 
with them most of the vivid and disturbed consciousness we call 
emotion" (Psv. REV., I, 6, 612). Hence he concludes that the 
consciousness in question cannot arise until the instinctive reactions 
are reported back from the periphery. This view is open to criti- 
cism on many points, but I merely wish to point out that, thanks 
to Professor Dewey, it can be attacked on a question of fact. The 
argument depends on the assumption that all * expressive reactions ' 
are instinctive. Some are undoubtedly, but the greater number of 
them are caused by the deflection of energy or the spreading of 
excess energy through the body. They are not instinctive at all, 
but simply ' mechanical outpouring through the easiest drainage 

We find, therefore, that nothing has been adduced on the basis 
of which it can be denied that emotion has a function of some kind, 
and causes some of the bodily movements which enter into the com- 
plete emotional state. The voluntary actions which seem to follow 
naturally from the peculiar psychical attitude are either left out of 
account altogether, or confounded with the instinctive reactions, 
which are themselves simply taken for granted. The explanation of 
the internal organic disturbance is in principle sound. It involves 
consequences, however, which are fatal to the effect-theory, and 
incidentally it destroys the special argument on the strength of 
which Professor Baldwin is induced to give a qualified assent to Pro- 
fessor James' main contention. On the other hand, opponents can 
accept it gratefully, and take account of it in framing their own 
theories. DAVID IRONS. 




If it is not contrary to editorial rules, I hope I may be allowed to 
protest against the unfair and dogmatic verdict which Professor G. 
S. Fullerton passes on the concluding section of my Aristotelian 
Address, 'The Conception of Infinity,' reviewed by him in the Janu- 
ary number of this journal (Vol. II, Part I, p. 99), inasmuch as it is 
founded on a confusion of ideas which he attributes to me, though it 
is really due only to himself. The first part of his article is appre- 
ciative and generous, and for that I thank him. But when he comes 
to the sixth and last section of my address, which he calls my con- 
clusion, he says that I reach it only by 'blowing both hot and cold 
in my premises,' which, supported as it is by a page of very plausible 
(though of course unintentional) misstatements, is an intolerable 

In three several cases on that page (99) he confuses distinctions 
which I clearly make and adhere to. He confuses : 

ist Between my 'material world' and my 'universe.' 

2nd Between my 'material element in consciousness' and my 
'matter' or 'material world.' 

3rd Between my 'perceptually known' and my 'positively 

Now, in my argument, time and space are never perceived or 
represented in thought without some kind of 'material element in 
consciousness,' and in this sense the 'material element' shares their 
infinity ; the 'formal' and 'material' elements together being indis- 
pensable constituents of anything thought of as existing (even when 
it is a void that is thought of), and therefore of the infinite universe. 

An infinite void when thought of as existing, either in time or 
space, is a void only in the sense of being empty of physical matter, 
and I have given some reasons in my address for thinking that the 
world of physical matter is finite, being bounded by a void in this 
sense, both in time and space. 

When we know any specific content (under which term physical 
matter is included) existing in time, or in time and space together, 
that is what I call having a 'positive knowledge' of it. But though 
we have no such positive knowledge of anything beyond the limits 
of the world of physical matter, we may yet have a 'perceptual 
knowledge' of time and space beyond them, namely, a representa- 
tion of them as filled with some ' material element in consciousness; ' 
this element being an indispensable condition of them as existing, 
although it is not specifically known to us. 



The inseparability of 'formal' from the 'material' element in 
consciousness compels us to think of the universe as infinite, so soon 
as we recognize that one of these elements is infinite, and cannot be 
thought of as being otherwise ; unless we assume dogmatically that 
only that really exists which man has specific sense-faculties to per- 
ceive. It is this dogmatic assumption which really ' shuts us up to 
the world of matter.' 

This argument of mine may or may not commend itself as con- 
clusive ; but at least it cannot be charged with attaching varying 
and inconsistent meanings to the premises employed, which is the 
charge made in the words I have quoted from Professor Fullerton, 
and made in the most peremptory fashion. 1 



Dr. Herbert Nichols, formerly assistant of the Harvard Psycho- 
' logical Laboratory, publishes in the last number of the Philosophical 
Review a most violent attack on that laboratory under the title 
'The Motor Power of Ideas.' His scientific motives, to which I 
must confine myself here, are based on such an absolute misunder- 
standing of our paper and his discussion is so full of misstatements 
that I consider it useless and hopeless to attempt to correct his mis- 
takes and discuss his arguments. But there is one point which 
troubles me. The paper which he refers to is published by Mr. 
Campbell and myself. Those who read the kind words with which 
Dr. Nichols praised my work a short time ago may not believe that 
he can change his mind so suddenly, and some may suppose perha] 
that the attack is directed especially against Mr. Campbell. Under 
these circumstances I take it as my duty to free my young friend, 
Mr. Campbell, publicly from all responsibility. Mr. Campbel 
carried out the experiments most carefully, but the whole plan ol 
work was laid out by me, and I myself wrote every line of th< 
article. It is probably superfluous to add that I should have writtei 
every line just as it now stands even if I had known Dr. Nichols' 
called criticism beforehand. HUGO MUNSTERBERG. 


1 [A faither comment from Prof. Fullerton on Mr. Hodgson's positions wi 
appear in the next number. Eds.] 



DJge'nere's et Desequibre's. J. DALLEMAGNE. Brussels, Lamertin ; 
Paris, Alcan ; 1895. Large 8vo., pp. 658. 

Dr. Dallemagne writes a very fluent colloquial style, well suited 
to the lecture-room, for which his book was originally written, and 
for this reason his pages, though immense, can be read quickly. 
The work is so full of details that our notice can hardly do more than 
recommend it to any reader who may be in search of a vue d* ensemble 
of the psychopathic constitution, and who at the same time has a good 
stomach for the great richness of the subject, and for the paren- 
thetical sallys and sidepockets of reflection and description into 
which our author will drag him remorselessly. M. Dallemagne's 
reading has been enormous, and, so far as appears, exact ; and it 
has in no way stifled his independence of judgment. His concep- 
tion of the sphere of ' loss of balance ' in the mental system is wider 
than that of Magnan, embracing Neurasthenia, Hysteria, and Epi- 
lepsy, of all which conditions the accounts he gives are both full of 
matter and up to date. Epilepsy, indeed, is the first subject treated 
after Imbecility, which latter follows six preliminary chapters on the 
psychological mechanism and on the notion and significance of the 
* degenerative ' type. The author allows that the conception of 
degeneration is still in process of evolution towards exactitude. It 
must indeed be admitted that causal and symptomatic notions min- 
gle in it ; heredity is an added element which is neither cause nor 
symptom ; and a placid myxoedematous cre'tin has superficially noth- 
ing in common with a one-idea'd fanatic or other member of Mag- 
nan's class of degendrts sujxfrteurs, except that both are * queer.' M. 
Dallemagne has wrestled copiously with the problem, and perhaps 
better than anyone has emphasized the notion of balance as the test 
of mental health. Dissociation of the mental system, impulses so 
strong that they bear all inner opposition down, aversions and appe- 
tites at variance with the subject's beliefs, abrupt explosions inter- 
ruptive of the consistency of his life, such are the traits of whole 
groups of psychopathic persons. M. Dallemagne even tentatively 
suggests a theory for such disequilibration. I find it very obscure, 



but it suggests to my mind something like this : The thalami and 
corpora striata are 'subconscious* centres for habits, cravings and im- 
pulses that are not so * saturated ' with experience as to have become 
fatally automatic, like those in the cord. They normally act in coop- 
eration with the fully conscious cortex and its associations of ideas. 
But they may become the seat of irritable weakness, and the asso- 
ciative cortical processes may be pathologically blocked or twisted 
from what is normal. In such cases the poussfo from below is either 
excessive or ill-timed, and it may also fall on wrong ideas and the 
normally controlling ones be thrown out of gear. All sorts of obses- 
sions, phobias, depravities of appetite, morbid impulses characteris- 
tic of the discordant self, which we find in the so-called degenerates,, 
maybe thus explained. In the 'inferior' class the cortex is most at 
fault ; in the ' superiors ' it is the basal ganglia. 

Entartung und Genie, Neue Studien. CESARE LOMBROSO, gesammelt 
und unter Mitwirkung des Verfassers deutsch herausgegeben 
von Hans Kurella. Leipzig, Wigand, 1894. 12, pp. 308. 

A collection of essays and fragments, not published as a volume 
in Italian. The author first replies to some objections to his theory 
that genius is a degenerative neurosis allied to epilepsy and moral 
insanity. Dante, Michelangelo, and Guido had been thrown at 
him as examples of men of genius who were normal. He proves 
minutely their strongly eccentric and neurotic constitution. Dante 
in particular must have been frankly epileptic, for no less than- 
eleven times in the divine comedy he speaks of himself as swooning 
or falling unconscious. That the weakness of genius cannot be due 
to secondary strains and fatigues incidental to the ardent sort of life 
which the possession of genius imposes, is proved by the fact that 
out of 313 symptoms of fatigue which Lombroso has counted, only 
six are commonly found among geniuses. Genius and sex is dis- 
cussed in a chapter, full of anecdotes, on the conditions productive 
of genius. In Chapter III. is shown the frequency of degenerative 
anomalies in geniuses. For example, they vary from their national 
type, as is proved by portraits. Longfellow, Bellamy, Tennyson, 
Coleridge look like men of Latin race. Darwin and Bryant, Cole- 
ridge and Burns, George Eliot and Bulwer form mutually resem- 
bling pairs. "The cause of these resemblances is to be sought in 
the degeneration common to them all." Prof. Lombroso has com- 
pared the field of view of twelve geniuses of his acquaintance with 
that of eight unusually gifted young men who were not geniuses,, 
and has found a shrinkage of the inner upper quadrant in nine of 


the geniuses in none of them was the field symmetrical. The non- 
geniuses were much more normal ; so that an abnormal field of 
view seems to characterize genius. On the other hand, genius 
would seem to have, if anything, a slower reaction-time than usual. 
Amongst the bizarreries of genius, playing with orthography is men- 
tioned, and a dog-latin letter of Swift to Stella is quoted. "One is 
tempted," Lombroso remarks, "to find in this tendency to fabricate 
a jargon, a trait connecting genius with criminality." The most 
valuable part of the book is constituted by biographical details con- 
cerning certain ' borderland ' cases, calculating geniuses, thought 
readers, artists, and political and religious 'mattoids.' The author's 
curiosity and information, frankness, good-humor and vivacity are 
beyond praise, but his incapacity for accurate reasoning is appa- 
rently incurable ; and this book, were it not for the biographic mate- 
rial which it contains, could only be regarded as one of the oddities 
of scientific literature. 

Degeneration. MAX NORDAU. Translated from the second edition 
of the German work. New York, Appleton, 1895. 8vo., pp. 560. 
A pathological book on a pathological subject. If one were to 
apply Herr Nordau's method to the description of his own person, 
one could hardly help writing him down as a degenerate of the 
worst sort. He is a ' graphomaniac'; a misanthrope and a ' miso- 
neist'; a 'coprolalic* ('idiot,' 'imbecile' are his mildest terms of 
endearment) ; an erotomaniac ' of the prudish - sort, haunted by 
horror of other people's sexuality; an obse'de', pursued without respite 
by images of odious works of art ; a ' megalomaniac ' of the arro- 
gant and insulting type ; and, finally, a victim of insane delusions 
about a conspiracy of hysterics and degenerates menacing the moral 
world with destruction unless the sound-minded speedily arm and 
organize in its defence. Add to this equipment the earnestness of 
the gloomily insane, and their complete inability to see a joke (pages 
of heavy invective against Oscar Wilde's epigrams!) and one gets a 
not altogether consoling diagnosis of Herr Nordau's case. On the 
other side, it must be admitted that he is really learned, not only in 
contemporary German, French and English belles lettres, but in the 
literature of neurological medicine as well, and that many of the 
objects by whose odiousness his imagination is afflicted, Parisian 
'pornographic' novels, for example, are loathsome indeed. When, 
however, hardly a contemporary name, however great, escapes his 
abuse, and the course over which he runs-a-muck lies through Wag- 
ner, Tolstoi, Ruskin, Burne-Jones, Rossetti, Zola, Ibsen, and Niet- 


sche, as well as through Baudelaire and his descendants, it must be 
admitted that his volumes are little more than a pathological 'docu- 
ment' on an enormous scale, and an exhibition in minute detail of an 
individual's temperamental restrictions in the way of enjoying art. 

The only chapters that concern this REVIEW are those entitled 
* the psychology of mysticism ' and l the psychology of egotism ' 
respectively. Mysticism and egotism are the great mental stigmata 
of hereditary degeneration. Mysticism is, in brief, the tendency to 
see in everything more than appears on the surface, and to suppose 
mysterious significance in the plainest facts. Its condition, our 
author says, is an inability of voluntary attention to confine the flow 
of association. In the exhausted and aimless brain of a degenerate, 
beyond the clear and immediate associates of an idea, there surges 
up circle beyond circle of remote associates, pale and vague rever- 
berations of distant ideas, which make all perceptions spectral and 
all judgments uncertain. This is much like saying that in a healthy 
mind thoughts should have no atmosphere, no overtones, no fringes 
an opinion to which few will subscribe. Herr Nordau's explana- 
tion of the egotism of degenerates is based on the observations of 
Sollier and others upon imbeciles, and of Lombroso upon criminals, 
showing obtuse sensibility of the skin and other perceptive organs. 
Whilst the outer world thus comes to them and their congeners im- 
perfectly, the inner world, on the contrary, fills them with its clam- 
orous impulses and obsessions ; their enfeebled will cannot hold 
the balance, the line (arbitrary at best) between the me and the 
not-me is shifted, and the me fills the field of attention. This 
theory, also, though it has its ingenuity, is one which psychologists 
will hardly find completely satisfactory. 

The translation, so far as I have examined it, reads fairly well. 
But the publishers have made 560 very vast and ugly pages out of 
the 1000 odd convenient pages of the two-volume original. 

Genie und Entartung, cine psychologische Studie. WILLIAM HIRSCH. 
Leipzig ; Coblentz, 1894. 8, pp. 340. 

It really reanimates one, after so much farce-comedy writing on 
the subject of genius, to come upon a book based on psychological 
analysis, logic, and common-sense. It would be well if all the ad- 
mirers of Lombroso, Nisbet, and Nordau could be compelled to read 
Dr. Hirsch's admirable study, of which every page is interesting 
and acute. I can only quote general principles from it, leaving out 
details. In the first place, the author remarks, ' genius ' is a socio- 
logical, not a psychological concept. The class of persons popu- 


larly recognized as geniuses poets, musical composers, musical 
executants, actors, painters, men of science, statesmen, soldiers, 
and devotees seem at first sight to have nothing in common except 
rarity and originality. But originality itself is not a psychological 
conception. An Englishman appears in France as ' an original'; 
and so does a Yankee in England. The oddity of lunatics, due to 
recklessness and non-inhibition, has nothing inwardly in common 
with the fertility in novel ideas that characterizes geniuses. "In 
different fields [as the author shows by detailed discussion] we see 
that the most diverse psychological elements constitute the man's 
genius, and that qualities which in one case make its essence, are in 
others actually incompatible with its activity. There are, therefore, 
no definite psychological qualities common to all geniuses. One 
would seek in vain identical features in Bismarck and Paganini, in 
Mozart and Napoleon." Even within one type there are tremen- 
dous differences, Goethe and Beethoven, for instance, having been 
men of mood and inspiration ; Schiller and Mozart, men of continu- 
ous activity independent of mood, working with will and critical 
reflection. The mental elements are identical in the sane and the 
insane, the difference between these classes of men being one of pro- 
portion and mixture. With strong obsessions one needs a strong will 
to keep sound, just as with a large body one needs large legs to 
keep active. The excessive sensibility of a Goethe would have 
made a psychopath of him, but for his extraordinary intellect and 
self-control with these additions it simply made him the mightier 
pattern of mankind. The logic which, because it finds hallucinations 
in crazy people, treats them thenceforward as an insane symptom, 
even where no other insane symptom is present, begs the question. 
Their existence in sane men should on the contrary be held to 
prove that they are not necessarily a morbid symptom. The 'sim- 
ple enumeration ' of geniuses with psychopathic traits, to prove the 
essential psychopathy of all genius [apart from the fact that by the 
same logic one could prove that being born on a Sunday, or having 
brown eyes, was genius's essential condition], is carried out with no 
pretence to exactitude. Rightly used, the statistical argument 
ought to ascertain, first, the percentage of the mentally unsound in 
a given population at a given moment, then the total number of 
geniuses, and finally the number of mentally diseased geniuses, in 
the same population at the same moment. If the percentage of dis- 
ease were higher in the geniuses than in the population, the neurosis 
theory of genius would receive presumptive support. It is needless 
to say that such statistics are unattainable, nor are they attempted 


by any of the advocates of the neurosis theory. 1 The close of Dr. 
Hirsch's book has much to say in re Nordau versus Wagner and 
Ibsen. This critical matter calls for no reproduction here. 

If the reviewer might now say a word of the result left on his 
own mind by reading the genius-controversy, it would run something 
like this : Moreau, Lombroso & Co. have done excellent service in 
destroying the classic view of genius as something superhuman and 
flawless. By their ferreting and prying and general devil's advo- 
cacy, they have helped us to an acquaintance with human nature in 
concrete, which from every point of view is superior to our old-fash- 
ioned academic notions. Lombroso in particular has put us in his debt 
by his studies of individual fanatics and ' mattoids.' But there the 
service stops, for (except in Nordau's case) these authors are incapable 
of logical or psychological analysis ; and the only conclusion that 
their facts make more clear than ever the conclusion, namely, that 
there are no incompatibles in human nature, and that any random 
combination of mental elements that can be conceived may also be 
realized in some individual is one that they do not draw. If we 
are to make of genius a psychological conception at all, it must be 
a property of intellect rather than of will or feeling. Narrowed in 
this way, Prof. Bain's description of it, as an unusual tendency to 
associate by similarity (a description with which none of our authors 
seem acquainted), will stand firm. But it is one thing to have this 
intellectual condition of genius and another to become effective in 

1 The only attempt to use statistics methodically by advocates of the theory is in 
Nisbet's comparison of the causes of death in genius and in the population at large 
(see "The Insanity of Genius," 1893, p. 315). This author says: "I have dealt 
specifically with some 250 men of genius. Selected upon no other ground than their 
eminence, in the first instance, the total number of these are found to be neuropathic, 
suffering from or dying of some description of nerve disorder." Mr. Nisbet then enu- 
merates amongst the " chief constitutional or nerve diseases ": Phthisis, pneumonia, 
apoplexy, heart disease, scrofula, rheumatism, syncope, diabetes, gout and stone, and 
then tells us that the death-rate of the 'nerve diseases,' thus Pickwickianly under- 
stood, to the entire death-rate of Great Britain in 1888, was as i to 3}, whilst " among 
the men of genius enumerated it is at least three times greater." Ignoring the ridicu- 
lousness of Mr. N.'s classification of nerve diseases, and assuming that all the 250 
geniuses really did die of them, not the total population, but some part of the population 
whose pursuits are intellectual, was the proper term of comparison. If Mr. Nisbet 
had looked up the personal and family history of 250 occupants of offices in the city, 
or of 250 active business men, and found less gout and apoplexy than in his geniuses, 
it would have been a really interesting fact, for these are diseases of sedentary life as 
such, and geniuses are on the whole of the sedentary class. Similarly before the 
' family history ' of geniuses can be held to prove the neurosis theory, a comparison 
must be made with the families of an equal number of business men, ' selected upon no 
other ground ' say than their wealth. No such comparison has ever been attempted. 


history as a genius, and to figure in biographical dictionaries. We 
all know intellects of first-rate original quality whose names are 
written in water because of the inferiority of the other elements of 
their nature, their lack of remote ideals and unifying aims, of pas- 
sion and of staying power. On the other hand we know moderate 
intellects who become effective and even famous in the world's work 
because of their force of character, their passionate interests and 
doggedness of will. To do anything with one's genius requires pas- 
sion ; to do much requires doggedness. Hence it comes that the 
intense sensibility of the psychopathic temperament, when it adds 
itself to a first-rate intellect, greatly increases the chances that the 
latter will bear effective fruits. To be liable to obsession by ideas, 
not to be able to rest till they are 'worked off,' ought then to be, as 
they indeed are, traits of character often found amongst the men 
whose names figure as those of geniuses in the cyclopedias. But 
these traits have no essential connection with the sort of intellect 
that makes the men geniuses. We may find them combined with any 
sort of intellect, as we find first-rate intellect combined with any sort 
of character. The names of Emerson, Longfellow, Lowell, Whit- 
tier, and Holmes would probably be those first written by any one 
who should be asked for a list of the geniuses of the community in 
which I write. Although belonging to the class of poets (the species 
of genius most akin to psychopathy by the sensibility it demands), 
these men were all distinguished for balance of character and com- 
mon sense. So Schiller, so Browning, so George Sand. In poets 
like Shelley, Poe, de Musset, on the other hand, we have the intel- 
lectual and passionate gifts without the powers of inhibition. In 
the sphere of action we have a similar diversity of mixture: we 
find the all-round men like Washington, Cavour, and Gladstone ; 
the great intellects and wills with no hearts, like Frederic the 
Great ; the intense hearts and wills with narrow intellects, like 
Garibaldi and John Brown ; the stubborn wills with mediocre 
hearts and intellects, like George III. or Philip II. ; and, finally, 
the real cranks and half-insane fanatics, often with much of the 
equipment of effective genius except a normal set of 'ideas.' It 
all depends on the mixture ; only as the elements vary independ- 
ently, the chances that a freak of nature in the line of human great- 
ness will be as exceptionally strong in all three elements of character 
as he is in any one of them, is small. Hence some lop-sidedness in 
almost all distinguished personages, hence the rarity of the Dantes, 
St. Bernards, and Goethes among the children of men. 


One more word : there is a strong tendency among these pathol- 
ogical writers to represent the line of mental health as a very narrow 
crack, which one must tread with bated breath, between foul fiends 
on the one side and gulfs of despond on the other. Now, health is 
a term of subjective appreciation, not of objective description, to 
borrow a nomenclature from Prof. Royce : it is a teleological term. 
There is no purely objective standard of sound health. Any pecu- 
liarity that is of use to a man is a point of soundness in him, and what 
makes a man sound for one function may make him unsound for 
another. Moreover, we are all instruments for social use ; and if 
sensibilities, obsessions and other psychopathic peculiarities can so 
combine with the rest of our constitution as to make us the more 
useful to our kind, why then we should not call them in that context 
points of unhealthiness, but rather the reverse. 

The trouble is that such writers as Nordau use the descriptive 
names of symptoms merely as an artifice for giving objective author- 
ity to their personal dislikes. The medical terms become mere 
' appreciative ' clubs to knock men down with. Call a man a ' cad ' 
and you've settled his social status. Call him a 'degenerate,' and 
you've grouped him with the most loathsome specimens of the race, 
in spite of the fact that he may be one of its most precious members. 
The only sort of being, in fact, who can remain as the typical normal 
man, after all the individuals with degenerative symptoms have been 
rejected, must be a perfect nullity. He must, it is true, be able to 
perform the necessities of nature and adapt himself to his environ- 
ment so as to come in when it rains ; but being free from all the 
excesses and superfluities that make Man's life interesting, without 
love, poetry, art, religion, or any other ideal than pride in his non- 
neurotic constitution, he is the human counterpart of that 'temper- 
ance ' hotel of which the traveler's handbook said : "It possesses no 
other quality to recommend it." We all remember the sort of 
school-boy who used to ask us six times a day to feel of his biceps. 
The sort of man who pounds his mental chest and says to us: "See, 
there isn't a morbid fibre in my composition ! " is like unto him. 
Few more profitless members of the race can be found. The real 
lesson of the genius-books is that we should welcome sensibilities, 
impulses and obsessions if we have them, so long as by their means 
the field of our experience grows deeper and we contribute the better 
to the race's stores; that we should broaden our notion of health 
instead of narrowing it; that we should regard no single element of 
weakness as fatal in short that we should not be afraid of life. 

W. J. 



Thtorie de rondulation universelle ; essais sur Involution. B. CONTA. 

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 216. 

Perhaps the thing of greatest interest in this volume of meta- 
physics is the biography of the author. Conta, born in Maldavin, 
of illiterate parents, by turns conjuror and student, constantly 
changing his profession to make his living, but always pursued by 
the same sensations of hunger and phthisis, ended by becoming 
professor of law, and died Minister of Education of his country. 
Such a life proves that he was a man of unusual energy. As for his 
theories of universal undulation which are not on the whole very 
different from the theories of evolution they have very little interest 
for us, so schematic are they and distant from facts ! Toward 
the end of his book there are some curious details on what Conta 
calls laws of universal assimilation. I say curious because the 
author, hastened and hindered by the malady which finally carried 
him off, had not time to develop his thought, and he has thrown 
together simple notes, and these notes seem to me to explain his 
method very clearly. It follows from the first idea that all bodies 
tend to assimilate others by each communicating its own peculiar 
external and internal movement. This applies in the first place to 
purely physical phenomena : so a body that presses (this is his own 
expression, p. 208) communicates the direction of its own displace- 
ment to that of the body that is pressed, etc. Then come the physi- 
ological phenomena : the particles which go to make bone are trans- 
formed into bony matter. Then he passes to contagion of diseases, 
without being aware of the abruptness of the transition : the differ- 
ent degrees of unhealthiness are communicated from individual to 
individual. Finally, the author cites, as being part of the same 
series, psychical influences. We experience the emotions of those 
with whom we happen to be ; we laugh with those that laugh, and 
weep with those who weep, etc. All phenomena attributed to imi- 
tation belong to assimilation : "all phenomena produced in the ner- 
vous system of the person who influences is communicated with 
more or less force to the nervous system of the person influenced " 
(p. 211). I think that this series of arguments gives us enough 
light on the value of this work. A. B. 


La Vie et la Pensde : essai de conception experimentale. G. PIOGER. 

Paris, Alcan, 1894. Pp. 260. 

In this book M. Pioger aims to trace the development of organic 
life into conscious and mental life, and to this end he gathers and 


coordinates facts from the experimental sciences. Hence he adds 
to his title the phrase ' experimental conception ' or the systematiza- 
tion of our real knowledge. Such knowledge is confined to our 
thought of the relations which we find among things, for we cannot 
penetrate into the substance of things. Yet it is true and objective 
knowledge in spite of Berkeley (?); and this knowledge enables us 
to conceive the world experimentally that is, to systematize the 
relations which we perceive and to embrace them as a whole by 

Our thoughts are produced by the special orientation of our psy- 
chic sensibility, which suffers the influences of the environment of 
which it is a part, and of which the most intimate parts also go to 
compose it. So thought is prepared for specific organic and vital 
functions. It appears at the moment that what M. Pioger calls men- 
tality arises from the relation of certain vital elements. Mentality 
is that which personifies our intellectual aptitudes and gives us our 
mental constitution. This constitution, therefore, takes root in our 
organic constitution, and that in turn in our inorganic constitution 
a result from the solidarity of inorganic elements. From mentality 
and its phenomena we reach the concept of consciousness, which is 
a mid-term between life and thought. 

Consciousness, therefore, plunges its roots into the depths of our 
lower life and pushes its branches up into the intellectual and social. 
M. Pioger gives a table showing the various ramifications. 

The individual consciousness is, then, only a preparation for 
social life and consciousness, whose phenomena arise from the recip- 
rocal action and articulation of social elements, just as in turn the 
phenomena of mentality and intelligence result from the articulation 
in the sphere of the individual's psychic sensibility. To the first 
part, which gives the analysis of the elements constitutive of thought 
and life, and shows the lower regions in which they lie hidden, M. 
Pioger adds a second part devoted to the synthesis of elements. He 
shows the solidarity which they come to present in the individual 
(in thought), in the race (by heredity), and in society. 

To sum up, the book is an attempt to throw together some of 
the data of experimental science from a point of view similar to 
Spencer's, but narrower. But the data are arbitrarily chosen, and 
the results are in many cases open to dispute. It is not based on 
original or new research. J. PHILIPPE. 


Peregrinazioni Psicologiche. T. VIGNOLI. Milan, Hoepli, 1895. Pp. 404. 

This is a collection of notes and essays published on various 

occasions between 1882 and 1894. The title of the book is justified 


not only by the variety of subjects it handles, but also by the lack 
of any studied arrangement, neither the order of time nor that of 
topics being strictly observed. Each article, however, is marked 
by lucidity of exposition and by a wealth of details which, though 
familiar for the most part to students of psychology, are made to do 
good service for the critical and constructive purposes of the author. 

The volume would not have suffered seriously by the omission of 
the discourse on 'The Paleontology of the Spirit,' as this is merely 
a bit of sarcasm expended on unscientific notions ' fossils of the 
mind.' Of the remaining articles, that which possesses the most 
actual interest is on 'colored audition.' To understand this phe- 
nomenon we must recall the facts of brain-growth. The protoplasm 
was the seat of general sensation. As the various tissues, organs 
and centres were differentiated, the original aptitude to receive all 
sorts of impressions remained in a latent form. Its revival explains 
those * organic metaphors ' whereby a single impression gives rise to 
different sensations. This explanation, however, is put forward 
simply as an hypothesis, with a prudent ' perhaps ' here and there. 

'Paramnesia' the author handles with more assurance. Such 
peculiarities of memory, far from being abnormal, are accounted for 
by three causes : the reproduction, by association, of ideas, images 
and feelings ; the rapidity of thought ; and the automatic construct- 
ive power of mind and imagination. Because the mind, when it 
perceives an analogy between a present object and one that was 
previously perceived, fails to distinguish one from the other, it 
transfers the actual image to an indefinite past. The comparative 
judgment is inhibited partly by the rapidity of thought and partly 
by the unconscious character of one of the factors. 

To * certain unconscious intervals in a coordinated series of 
psychic acts,' a lengthy study is devoted. That such intervals are 
possible is shown from numerous facts of memory, dream-picturing 
and the ordinary activity of the waking state. They are filled in by 
cerebral functions, which, though they do not rise into conscious- 
ness, are capable, because of the laws of heredity, of linking one 
conscious state with another. 

An inquiry into the ' genesis of our sense-perceptions ' leads, by 
delicate analysis of the physical and physiological processes, to the 
vexed question How does the brain-motion become sensation ? 
The answer is facilitated by a comparison. Between the qualities 
which an element acquires in passing from one allotropic state to 
another, and its molecular structure, there is no relation that we can 
discern. Nor is there, so far as we can perceive, any relation be- 


tween the physiological process and the sensation. They are two 
states. The physical state and the psychical state are the eternal 
and fundamental forms of the universe. 

Five of the articles contained in the volume, though treating of 
different subjects, present a certain similarity. Thus the growth 
of ' the moral sense ' is explained according to the laws of evolution, 
and especially of heredity. Man's vicious proclivities are the 
effects of atavism, of reversion to a pre-human condition from which 
man emerged by an act of reflection. To make the results of this 
act prevail over the atavistic tendency, is the secret of social pro- 
gress. Again, ' attention ' being widened out till it means 'response 
to a stimulus/ it is found to be essentially the same throughout the 
animal series. Only in man there is a power of introspection 
whereby he can attend to the very act of attention ; and this it is 
that distinguishes him from the lower animals. The same line of 
demarcation is drawn in the article on the 'origin of articulate 
speech.' Man has, in common with other animals, a 'physiological 
language'; but this is fundamentally different from speech. The 
latter is not a copy but a symbol of the internal process. In man 
thought precedes speech ; so that from the articulation of the one 
by reflection there results the articulation of the other its outward 

The importance of the ' sensory image for the development and 
exercise of intelligence,' arises from the very vagueness of the image 
that would seem to be an imperfection. Our perceptions are gen- 
eric, i. <?., they give us but a small part of the details which the 
object really contains. This is required in all animals by the neces- 
sities of existence ; since life would be impossible if a minute exam- 
ination of each object had to be made. In man, moreover, the 
generic character of perception aids intelligence and gives rise to 
science, by serving as a means of classification and ulterior abstrac- 
tion. The act of reflection being proper to man, extreme caution 
must be used in interpreting those actions of animals which seem to 
be on a par with those of human intelligence. On this principle, 
and on his personal observations, Vignoli criticizes with consider- 
able keenness the accounts given by Lubbock and others of the 
dog's reading and counting abilities, and shows, how in these respects, 
the animal is inferior to the child and the savage. 

His ' notes on a psychology of sex ' are divided into two parts. 
In the first he outlines the intellectual, moral and industrial traits 
by which the sexes differ, and which depend upon organic and func- 
tional differences. In the second he insists that man, from the 


beginning, must have been a social being; otherwise, articulate 
speech would never have been formed. 


Philosophy of Mind : An Essay in the Metaphysics of Psychology. G. T. 
LADD. New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1895. Pp. XIV 
+ 4M. 

It is a little more than a year since Professor Ladd ended the 
preface to his Psychology, Descriptive and Explanatory, with a promise 
to deal in a later work with the philosophical problems which empiri- 
cal psychology suggests. This promise is fulfilled in the volume 
before us. The field covered does not include all the questions to 
which psychology gives rise it would need a system rather than an 
'essay' for that but the author selects for treatment a number of 
topics which are intimately connected with current discussions, and 
which possess an abiding interest. The standpoint from which these 
are considered is that of the 'empirical science of mental phenom- 
ena.' As Professor Ladd says (p. 82): 

"Indeed, this essay in the philosophy of mind is deliberately 
based upon previous long-continued researches into the facts and 
laws of a scientific psychology. * * * And it is the author's con- 
trolling wish that the validity of the following speculative conclus- 
ions should constantly be brought face to face with the conclusions 
of the empirical science of mind." 

Here, whether it agrees with Professor Ladd's views or not, the 
psychological world will be a unit in according him the praise which 
is due the patient endeavor to base metaphysics on the only secure 
foundation. No one among us has more earnestly studied or more 
carefully sifted the data and the outcome of scientific psychology 
than Professor Ladd ; no one, therefore, is better entitled to claim 
for his results the consideration which of right belongs to thinking 
of such a character. 

Further, as psychologists are already acquainted with the author' & 
empirical conclusions, so they will find his metaphysics familiar 
almost at a glance. In general it is distinctly Lotzean in tone ; 
while Professor Ladd's special opinions have been foreshadowed in 
his earlier works, including his Introduction to Philosophy. Both these 
points are evident from the metaphysical preludes with which many 
of the chapters of the present work begin, as well as in the conclus- 
ions reached. For instance, reality is thus defined (p. 120): 

"Every real being is known as a self-active subject of states, stand- 
ing in manifold relations to other beings, and maintaining its right 


to be called real by acting and being acted upon, only, however, in 
obedience to certain laws (or uniform modes of its behavior as such 
a being and no other)." 

Again, concerning the consciousness of identity, it is argued 

(P- iS 1 ): 

" Every x (every 'Thing' whatsoever), in order to be entitled still 

to be called x (or the 'self-same' thing) must in its changes run only 
through series such as can be indicated by x, x 1 , x*, x 3 , x* . . . x n ; 
or on occasion of its coming into other relations with different beings, 
the series may be that indicated by x t x, x&, xt, X s . . jc w ." 

And it is concluded : 

"The real identity of anything consists in this, that its self- 
activity manifests itself, in all its different relations to other things, 
as conforming to an immanent idea." Similarly unity in anything 
whatever is held to imply 'the presence of some ideal in the very 
being of the thing' (p. 191), and self-consciousness, in its unitary 
development, to yield the best, if not the only conception of what a 
unit-being is ; permanency in things and minds alike is deemed a 
matter of inferred rather than of direct knowledge, and the perma- 
nent being of mind is believed interrupted when consciousness 
lapses, except for the modicum of existence which consists in 'a 
certain abiding relation to all reality' or 'the world-ground' (p. 

39 2 ). 

The interest of psychologists, therefore, will centre about the 
way in which these two familiar elements of Professor Ladd's think- 
ing are combined and the results to which his inquiry leads him. 
The book opens with two chapters on ' Psychology and the Philos- 
ophy of Mind.' The chief thesis here is the impossibility of 
divorcing psychology and philosophy altogether. This will be 
admitted by all as to the latter end ; for that psychology issues in 
the problems which philosophy discusses, is not susceptible of doubt. 
That psychology as a science actually does, and of necessity must, 
include metaphysical assumptions in its course, should be equally 
clear ; although, no doubt, many will question the truth of the 
proposition. It is an easy task for Professor Ladd to show that the 
natural science, on the level of which our 'new psychology* delights 
to stand, is itself ' shot through ' with metaphysical elements ; and 
just as easy, though the work is rather more novel, to prove by ex- 
amples Hoffding, James, and Flournoy are cited that the professed 
rejectors of metaphysics are among the chief offenders against their 
own first principle. The nerve of the argument appears, however, 
in the conclusion that the only legitimate choice left for the 


psychologist is between the uncritical dualism of common life and 
the adoption of l some definitive metaphysical point of view ' (p. 42) 
of his own selection, as has been done by Volkmann and Wundt. 
This may be the alternative in the present transitional condition of 
psychology. But surely history points toward a better ideal for the 
future, namely, the critical though not always reflectively critical 
determination and adoption by all of such principles as will best 
subserve the progress and the exactness of the science. It was in 
this way that the rising sciences of the modern era threw off the 
trammels which formed their heritage from Aristotle and the 
medievalists ; thus physics, to take a more special example, has in 
our own time been criticising some of its fundamental concepts, 
although to students of philosophy its advance may seem painfully 
hesitating and slow. So also psychology is still in the throes of its 
new birth. And when the happy time shall come for us to be fitted 
out with even as good a set of working principles as that which the 
physical sciences of the day enjoy, we shall be secure from the 
vagaries of the 'psychologies without a soul' on the one hand, and 
the necessity of constant re-discussion of our primary assumptions 
on the other. But on any view of the case, it must be regretted 
that Professor Ladd's polemic manner lags behind the material force 
of his arguments. The use of horrible examples is always a danger- 
ous expedient in a technical treatise ; and the psychological world 
will unite in deploring the characterization of Hoifding's introduc- 
tion of metaphysics into his psychology as a 'covert effort' (p. 22) 
and James's positivistic attitude as the 'position of materialism' (pp. 

28, 39). 

Chapters III-VI constitute the kernel of the volume. The chief 
positive outcome of the first of them, on 'The Concept of Mind,' is 
the emphasis laid on the element of self-activity in all self-conscious- 
ness. Chapter V, on the ' Consciousness of Identity and So-called 
Double Consciousness,' is the paper presented by the author at the 
last meeting of the Psychological Association ; together with Chap- 
ter VI, on 'The Unity of Mind,' it advocates identity and unity as 
real predicates of the self, on the basis of the unity of the life of con- 
sciousness and in the sense of the definitions above cited. Chapter 
IV deals with a question central to the whole discussion, ' The Re- 
ality of Mind.' Noetically, it is argued here, 'knowledge impli- 
cates reality,' and, metaphysically, all the marks of reality belong to 
the mind, known as a 'here-and-now-being' in self-consciousness 
and as a 'then-and-there-being' in memory, and inferred to be a 
permanent existence by reflective thought working on the data of 


experience. Hence, also, it is concluded as a corollary, "The 
peculiar, the only intelligible and indubitable reality which belongs to 
Mind is its being for itself, by actual functioning of self-conscious- 
iiess, of recognitive memory, and of thought" (p. 147). Yet it is with a 
sense of disappointment that the reader ends the chapter. The 
difficulty is partly one of method. In putting his most important 
thesis so early in his work the author has lost the advantage of the 
several arguments, positive and negative, which later on might have 
been combined into a proof of cumulative force. It is partly a 
difficulty with Professor Ladd's theory of knowledge, at least in so 
far as he has yet announced it. After diligent study of his various 
works, the present writer inclines to the belief that his first principle, 
u knowledge implicates reality,' knowledge and reality are correlates, 
etc., might l in some sort' be acceptable to many of those not 
agnostics or phenomenists. But when this is used as a kind of uni- 
versal major, with little or no systematic determination of subordi- 
nate criteria, especially when the psychology and the noetics of 
self-consciousness are so intermingled that it is often impossible to 
decide on the basis of which of the two the argument is proceeding ; 
the effect is not only confusion concerning the meaning of Professor 
Ladd's reasonings, but doubt in regard to their validity. But the 
difficulty arises partly, also, from an underestimation of the strength 
of opposing theories. The same failure to realize the importance of 
the reinforcements which have come to the cerebralists and material- 
ists from the newer researches that marked Part III of the 
Physiological Psychology, reappears in the present treatise. And this, 
though the psychological world owes a debt of gratitude to Professor 
Ladd for the earnest defence of the reality and spirituality of mind 
which he has given alike in the earlier and in the later work. 

Chapters VII-VIII, on 'Mind and Body,' are for the most part 
an elaboration of chapters XI, XXI and XXII of Psychology, Descrip- 
tive and Explanatory. But chapters IX, ' Materialism and Spiritual- 
ism,' and X, 'Monism and Dualism,' are among the most successful 
in the book. In the former vigorous blows are dealt the materialistic 
theory, without yielding to the claims of spiritualism in the monistic 
sense of the term. In the latter a still more forcible assault is made 
on both the scientific basis and the metaphysical deductions of the 
current psychological Spinozism. In Professor Ladd's own words 
(P- 344) : 

"In brief, then, the alleged scientific principle of psycho-physical 
parallelism is far from being the self-evident conclusion of modern 
ps#hGr.physical research w4iich.-it is so. often, and. so rashly assumed 


to be. Even the simplest relations between the phenomena of the 
lowest order of consciousness and the concomitant cerebral activities 
are far too fluctuating, complicated and changeable to be subsumed 
under this principle. Of parallelism in space we cannot speak 
appropriately in this connection. Of parallelism in time there is 
only an incomplete and broken analogy. And when one tries to 
think out clearly the conception of a complete qualitative parallelism, 
one finds the principle soon ending in inadequacy, and finally becom- 
ing unintelligible or absurd * * * ." 

Nor if the doctrine of psycho-physical parallelism, in the fullest 
meaning of the phrase, were proven, would monism necessarily fol- 
low. Rather the clearest inference would be to a moderate dualism, 
even though it is difficult to share the author's confidence that the 
* double-aspect* theory is utterly meaningless. 

The remaining discussions of the 'Origin and Permanence of 
Mind ' and the * Place of Man's Mind in Nature ' point forward to 
the future development of Professor Ladd's views on ethics and the 
philosophy of religion. These will be the more eagerly awaited in 
view of the value of the present volume, which, in spite of defects, 
is one of the most notable contributions of recent years to the litera- 
ture of the subject. A. C. ARMSTRONG, JR. 


Elements of Psychology (Syllabus of Philosophy /). J. H. HYSLOP, 

Columbia College, New York, 1895. Pp. 130. 
This syllabus is best described in Dr. Hyslop's own words: "As 
a time-saving instrument in my lectures on the subject, and as a 
guide to my students in their reading and study." It has also a 
personal interest in showing those who have been instructed by the 
author's work in other departments logic and ethics his general 
conception of the psychological area and its problems. Aside from 
these two uses it is hard to see what purpose it can serve. The 
analysis, while systematic and thorough as analysis, (excepting the 
chapter on emotion) does not allow one to see far enough into Dr. 
Hyslop's mind to warrant confidence as to one's insight into what 
his psychological position really is, This, of course, is a defect, if 
defect it be, not in execution but in original design ; for Professor 
Dewey has recently shown in his * Study of Ethics ' the possibility of 
a syllabus which shall contain both outline and suggestive doctrine. 
The analysis is indeed so thorough and comprehensive that here at 
least we believe that 'the part is not worth more than the whole,' 
and we hope that Dr. Hyslop may see fit some time to give his lee- 


tures text-book form. The balance between the introspective and 
the ' extrospective ' methods is, so far as can be judged, well pre- 
served, and the author's breadth of view and psychological tolerance 
are well shown in his use of the observations of the 'psychic 
researchers.' How justifiable his particular use of these observations 
is, is another question (witness, for example, the remarks on the 
phenomena of retention), for the condensed analytic outline, because 
of its necessary meagerness, warns one off the field of interpretation 
and criticism. This is shown again in the remarks made on sublimi- 
nal consciousness. 

Particularly striking is Chapter X, on the 'Will or Conation.' 
Psychological students owe the author a debt of gratitude for this 
piece of analysis. It is a valuable supplement to the chapter on the 
1 Freedom of the Will' in the Ethics. These two chapters throw 
light on each other. R. B. JOHNSON. 


Popular Scientific Lectures. E. MACH. Translated by Thomas J. 
McCormack. Chicago, The Open Court Publishing Co., 1895. 
Pp. 313. Price, $1.00. 

Nearly all the lectures constituting this volume deal with the 
physiological or psychological side of physical questions ; four treat 
of the methods and development of science, briefly outlining a 
theory of cognition. 

Science, according to Prof. Mach, is essentially an economy of 
thought. Rooted in the most primitive psychical functions of life, 
this economy reaches its highest perfection in language and mathe- 
matics. Here, in the psychological origin and nature of our ideas, 
the elucidative power of the principle is obvious. 

A natural law is a rule or body of directions for the mental re- 
construction of facts ; enabling us to anticipate and retrace in 
thought the steps of nature. To this end it embraces only certain 
aspects of the facts, such as are determinative. By means of these 
determinative elements and their formal constituents, we complete 
in thought facts that are only partly given; derive complete results 
from incomplete data. To reach the ungiven elements we should, 
on the primitive plan, have to resort to slow and tedious experience; 
that infinite pains we save ourselves by economical natural laws. 
This is all that science accomplishes. Its individual results we 
could reach in a sufficiently long time directly and without methods. 

The mental reconstruction of facts we accomplish by description, 1 

1 The view that ' explanation ' is merely the description of unknown phenomena in 
terms of known phenomena was stated by Mach before either Clifford or Kirchhoff, 


rendered necessary by communication, effected by comparison. Of 
description there are two kinds: direct and indirect. We describe 
a fact directly when we employ terms having an abstract import only, 
where our comparisons suggest only conceptual relations. For ex- 
ample, the definition of quantity of heat, being a definite numerical 
statement of a certain determinate relation between temperatures 
and masses, is a direct description, involving no adscititious notion, 
and having validity whether heat is a substance or a motion ; and 
the same is true of energy. Now Black, in formulating the defini- 
tion of quantity of heat, and Mayer and Joule, in stating the law of 
energy, viewed the facts under the notion of a substance ; in so doing 
they resorted to indirect description they employed a simile in which 
unessential and superfluous features were involved. Of such a char- 
acter are theories in science, the wave-theory of light, heat as a 
motion, etc., useful in the preliminary steps of research, of unmis- 
takable power as heuristic agents, but destined to be discarded 
when that final consummation of knowledge is reached the simplest 
and completest possible abstract expression of the facts. Direct descrip- 
tion is the goal of all research. Moreover, the method of physiolo- 
gical psychology is the same as that of physics. 

Finally, is science, description, the ultimate unanalysable term 
in knowledge ? Viewed in its higher collective relations, and quali- 
fied by the restrictions incident upon such a view, it is. We seek in 
philosophy an integral aspect of the universe ; but our method is the 
differential method. It is in the latter that we must seek the foun- 
dations and conditions of our knowledge, not in the former. That 
economy which is embodied in our thoughts is conditioned upon the 
formal needs of the mind, but it is not necessarily to be found in 
nature. T. J. MCCORMACK. 


(i.) An Introduction to the Study of Society. A. W. SMALL and G. E, 

VINCENT. Am. Book Co., 1894. 
(2.) Les Transformations du droit. G. TARDE. 2 erne ed. Alcan, 

(3.) limitation et la logique sociale. R. BERTHELOT, Revue de 

Metaphysique et de Morale. 1894. Pp. 93-97. 

with whose names it is usually associated. The theory, natural enough in its origin, 
is not new in philosophy, although propounded independently by all the above-men- 
tioned inquirers and rendered exact only by their definitions. 


(4.) Le Probttme de la sociologie. G. SIMMEL, idem. Pp. 497-504. 
(5.) Les Ragles de la methode sociologique. E. DURKHEIM, Revue Phi- 
losophique, May-August, 1894. 

The province and method of sociology are at present a centre of 
discussion. As sociology in one of its aspects is social psychol- 
ogy, this involves discussion as to the possibility of a social as vs. an 
individual psychology, and, if this be admitted, as to the natural 
relations of the two. 

i. The province of sociology is, according to Professor Small, three- 
fold. Descriptive sociology is the science of the coordinated facts 
of society as it is ; statical sociology is the science of social ideals, 
an approximate account of the society which ought to be ; dynami- 
cal sociology studies the available resources for changing the actual 
into the ideal. Passing over the last two, descriptive sociology is 
more particularly "the organization of all the positive knowledge of 
man and of society furnished by biology, anthropology, psychology," 
etc., etc., and "attempts to combine the testimony of these special 
sciences into a revelation of the accidental and permanent factors in 
social combinations." The other writers are all inclined to seek a 
narrower, more specific field. M. Tarde (whose numerous works 
demand a special treatment) finds the essential characteristic of 
social phenomena to be 'imitation,' understood in the sense of 
"every reflection of one mind in others, of one will in others." 
Similar social phenomena (those of law are studied in particular) 
may be due either to 'invention,' in response to the demands of the 
environment, which refers us to a biological cause, or to imitation, a 
social cause. It is then this latter class of relations which forms the 
subject of a 'pure' sociology, as distinguished from biology and his- 
tory. M. Berthelot, in an acute review of Tarde (Revue de Met., 
l8 93> 57-5 l8 ), of which (3) is a restatement, objects that to 
make imitation the sole social category is a mistake like that of the 
Ionic school of philosophers with their water, air, etc. "The object 
of a 'pure sociology' is to determine the conditions apart from 
which no stable social group is possible." Sociology is social logic, 
a theory of the inventions necessary for society ; and imitation, like 
language or law, is merely one of these necessities. In fact, it falls 
under the consideration of pure sociology only in proportion as it is 
shown to be necessary to this end. Professor Simmel attempts a 
still more definite delimitation. If sociology embraces all that 
occurs in society, and is understood as an explanation of all events 
by social forces and considerations, it is only a method (as, e. g., 
induction), not a special science. But as psychology separates 


out the content of mental states and considers simply the form, so 
sociology must isolate the distinctively social and study the form of 
association as such. The contents, /. e., the interests and objects real- 
ized by association, belong to the specific historical and material 
sciences. The 'form' in question is reciprocal action, association; 
and in the most various types of social groups religious, economic, 
etc. we find the same special forms of subordination, imitation, 
division of labor, etc. The mere fact that phenomena are common 
to all does not make them social, nor do similarities and regularities 
established by statistics belong here if each has an individual cause. 
Not what takes place in society, but what takes place by society, is the 
field of sociology. M. Durkheim, though his chief aim is to set 
forth the methods to be employed in the science, prefaces his ex- 
tremely suggestive articles by a consideration of what is meant by a 
social fact. A social fact comprises " every kind of activity or func- 
tioning, whether fixed in definite law or not, which is capable of ex- 
ercising an external constraint upon the individual, or one which is 
general throughout a given society and has a proper existence of its 
own, independent of its individual manifestations." Language, 
law, financial systems impose themselves on the individual. They 
are general because collective (/. e., obligatory), and not vice versa. 

2. The relation of sociology to psychology, implied in these various 
definitions, is in many cases evident. None of our writers would, I 
think, accept Mill's statements, "men are not, when brought to- 
gether, converted into another kind of substance," "human beings 
in society have no properties but those which are derived from and 
may be resolved into the laws of the nature of individual man" 
/. <?., if we understand by 'individual man' man in isolation from all 
social relations ; and it is difficult to find anything worth saying in 
the statement if it does not mean this. Small, Tarde and Durkheim 
lay especial emphasis upon society as more than the sum of indi- 
viduals, and the last named devotes a special criticism to any psy- 
chological explanation of social facts meaning by * psychological ' 
an explanation based on the laws of the individual consciousness. 
Similarly Professor Small would distinguish "between (i) Psychology 
which gives an account of mind as we know it in the individual, and 
(2) Social Psychology, which describes the phenomena that result from 
the combination and reaction of the cognitions, emotions and voli- 
tions of associated individuals." Now, I can but think that Mill's 
* individual man ' hovers in the background of these statements, and 
that if psychology is limited to the study of that mythical being, its 
field is so narrow as to be scarcely worth tilling. No doubt the 


sociologists are leading the psychologists into broader horizons ; but 
if we follow out the implications of the authors cited, and abstract 
from 'mind as we know it in the individual,' all that results from the 
forces mentioned under (2), e. g., all the effects of language and in- 
tercourse, all feelings of sympathy, love, all volitions involving 
others, we should certainly have a much smaller man than even 
present psychology studies. Would not the ' difficulty of demon- 
strating the existence of social as distinguished from individual 
knowledge, feeling and willing, be removed by the recognition here 
of what is elsewhere implied in the authors' conception of man, viz., 
that neither (i) nor (2) deals with anything but an abstraction. 
There is no 'individual mind,' /. e., mind not under the constant in- 
fluence of the social relations ; neither can we hope to find any 
'social' knowledge or feeling, /. <?., knowledge or feeling not exist- 
ing in the medium of individual consciousness. We may doubtless 
study various aspects of consciousness in isolation, but their abstract 
character should be distinctly recognized, and neither ' psycholo- 
gist' nor 'sociologist' can ignore the work of the other. 

3. The methods to be used in investigation are treated at length 
by Durkheim. They include (i) rules relating to observation of 
social facts. These are : (a) consider social facts as things. Bacon's 
'idols' all find their counterparts in social science at present; (b) in 
defining and grouping phenomena, such as crime, the family, etc., use 
at first external marks only, not by what may be deemed the essential 
characteristics, nor should merely one type of facts be selected and 
the rest tested by this standard ; (c) study especially the consolida- 
tions of social facts in law, proverbs, modes, etc. (2) Rules for 
distinguishing the pathological from the normal. Here the rather 
startling proposition is advanced that, at the outset at least, the 
only objective criterion for the normal is the general. Hence nor- 
mal=the mean, diseased=the exceptional. But it is evident that 
greater frequency must ordinarily be due to superiority, to ' health;' 
hence (a) we may control our results by seeking the cause of the 
generality of a given phenomena in its relation to the general condi- 
tions of life in the social type considered ; and (b) this becomes 
especially necessary in the case of a social species in a transitional 
stage. (3) For making the classification into social types, the 
objective principle to be adopted as our standard is that of sim- 
plicity /. <?., we ask whether a given group is made up of units 
which enclose other units more simple than itself. (4) Rules for ex- 
plaining social faults, (a) It is common to find the reason of a fact 
in its utility. This is to confound final with efficient causation, and 


is no more admissible here than in natural science. Function and 
cause must be examined separately, (b) The cause of a social fact 
must always be sought in preceding social facts, not in states of indi- 
vidual consciousness [see remarks under 2 above], (c) The func- 
tion of a social fact should be sought in the relation it sustains to 
some social end. (d) The first origin of every social process should 
be sought in the constitution of the internal social medium. This 
will depend upon two factors : (a) the number of social units, the 
'volume' of society ; (/?) the degree of concentration, the 'dynamic 
density,' which is a function of the number of individuals who are in 
commercial and social relations. If we do not adopt this plan we 
are reduced to explain progress by ' tendencies ' instead of by 
real causes ; and, further, are forced to treat all as one species in 
greater or less stages of advancement. (5) Methods of induction, 
(a) The doctrine of plurality of causes bound up with Mill's philo- 
sophic presuppositions is to be rejected. The same effect is not pro- 
duced by different causes, (b) The most valuable of the inductive 
methods for our purpose is that of concomitant variations, for which 
we may draw our facts either from a single unique society at differ- 
ent times, or from several societies of the same kind, or from several 
of different kinds. 

The principle most likely to challenge criticism is that reducing 
the normal to the general. M. Tarde has already criticised (Revue 
Phil.) Feb., '95) Durkheim's own inference from it : that crime 
must be normal because general. But are not both D. and T. hasty 
in asserting that the above definition carries with it the inference that 
crime is normal ? Is crime ever so general in any group as to be the 
rule and not the exception meaning by crime, of course, acts con- 
sidered criminal by the group in question ? 



Anatomic des Centres Nerveux. J. DEJERINE, avec la collaboration 
de Mme. DEJERINE-KLUMPKE. Vol. I. General Methods of 
Study, Embryology, Histogenesis and Histology-Anatomy of 
the Fore-Brain. With 401 figures. Paris, Rueff et Cie., 1895. 
Price, 32 francs. 

The revolution in the doctrine on the architecture of the ner- 
vous system has been followed by a number of publications which 
endeavor to do justice to the rapid progress. None of those books 
reaches in breadth of plan and in the number and choice of illustra- 


tions the new work of Professor Dejerine, the first volume of which 
has just come out. Professor Dejerine, a pupil of Vulpian, is in the 
midst of a brilliant career as a clinician in the field of nervous dis- 
eases. Independent of Charcot's school, he has done remarkable 
work in the Hospital of Bicetre, which is probably without rival in 
rare nervous affections. His wife, Madame Dejerine-Klumpke, of 
American birth, has become known through her experimental work 
in Vulpian's laboratory and through her monograph on polyneuritis. 
The volume before us is the first of a monumental work on the ner- 
vous system from the hands of clinicians, and will for this reason be 
of the greatest intent and practical value. 

The first part begins with the history and description of the 
methods used for the study of the nervous system (pp. 7-57). A 
very interesting discussion of the choice of a post-mortem disse< 
tion, especially in pathological brains, with full description of the 
author's own method, precedes the notes on hardening, embedding, 
staining and drawing. The second chapter (pp. 58-153) deals with 
the development of the nervous system, and contains valuable tera- 
tological remarks, besides a remarkably clear and well-illustrated 
account of the assiduous work of the last years. The third and 
fourth chapters (pp. 134-232) are devoted to histogenesis and to 
histology of the central and peripheral nerve elements in the adult. 
The first part is profusely illustrated with drawings taken from the 
publications of His, Retzius, Cajal and Ranvier; the selection of tl 
drawings and their execution deserve equally high praise. 

The second part of the volume treats of the anatomy of the 
Fore-Brain. The first chapter (pp. 223-386) covers the general 
morphology, the convolutions and fissures, the base of the fore-brain 
and the configuration of its interior. Numerous drawings from 
photographs take the place of the customary diagrams. The second 
and third chapters (pp. 387-666) are practically a description of 
macroscopic and microscopic serial sections through the cerebrum, 
made in different directions, and forming the most complete atlas of 
those parts published so far. A chapter on the cerebral cortex (pp. 
667-741), and one on the white substance of the cerebral hemis- 
pheres (pp. 742-810), form the end of this first volume, rich in path- 
ological observations with regard to the association systems. The 
second volume will bring the description of the remaining parts and 
a systematic analysis of the fibre tracts. 

The style is very clear, the current epitome on the margin of the 
pages very convenient. Schematic drawings are avoided ; the 
figures are very accurately drawn and clear. 


Thus we have before us the first half of a work of fundamental 
importance for the progress of neurology, destined to bring the 
clinician into closer touch with the anatomical literature that is 
scattered in monographs and journals, and is here for the first time 
made satisfactorily accessible. Meritorious as are the smaller works 
of Edinger, Obersteiner Fe"re, Debierre, and the purely anatomical 
treatises, none of them could give such a full account of the minute 
details that interest the clinicians and pathologists of to-day. It is 
to be hoped that the second volume will soon follow and bring a 
very accurate index. ADOLF MEYER. 


The Growth of the Brain in Men and Monkeys, with a short Criticism of 
the usual Method of stating Brain-ratios. A. KEITH. Journal 
of Anatomy and Physiology, Vol. XXIX, Part II, Jan., 1895. 

The novel data in this paper comprise a series of brain-weights 
from 135 catarrhine apes. These have been collected from the 
literature and carefully compiled in tables. For reasons given in 
the text, brains preserved in alcohol are considered to have lost 
about 33 per cent, of their fresh weights. Where the brain-weight 
was deduced from the cranial capacity, the capacity in cubic centi- 
meters was taken as equal to the same number of grammes. There 
is evidence that the brain much more nearly fills the cranium in these 
apes than it does in the case of man, and this method introduces no 
very great error. To be compared with these data are those on the 
growth of the human brain, based on the figures by Boyd. 

The period during which the brain grows is much longer in man 
than in apes, even though the author is inclined to limit the growing 
period in man to twenty years. The difference between the brain- 
weight at birth and at maturity in man is greater than in the apes, 
or other mammals which have here been studied. This is but 
a different expression of the fact that in man the brain grows for a 
longer period. The central nervous system is precocious in its de- 
velopment, and attains nearly its full weight, while yet the body- 
weight is little more than one-third that of the adult. In all mammals 
this precocity of the central system is evident, and is most marked 
in the cephalic subdivisions of it. All these features are emphasized 
in man. From a comparison according to sex of the data on the 
brain weights of the several groups of apes, it appears that just as in 
man, the male has a heavier encephalon. 

This is a most interesting discovery. Our author then attacks 
the difficult problems of the relation between the mass of the body 



and that of the central nervous system. He seeks the determination 
of the 'corporeal concomitant' or the number of grammes increase 
in brain for each kilo, of increase in body weight. 

Assuming this to be a valid relation, the entire 'corporeal con- 
comitant' of the adult man would be but a small fraction of the 
total weight of the central system. The explanation here offered 
is questionable, as is also the explanation of the difference in the 
weight of the nervous system due to sex ; making it dependent on 
the absolute increase in this corporeal concomitant in the heavier 
male. Detailed tables accompany this paper. H. H. D. 


Ueber die Anzahl der unterscheidbaren Spectralfarben und ffelligkeits- 
stufen. A. KONIG. Ztsch. f. Psych. VIII, 5, 375-380. 
Professor Konig reproduces with more detail the result which he 
had already announced that the entire number of different color- 
tones perceptible in the spectrum by the normal eye is about 165, 
and that the entire number of distinguishable brightnesses, from the 
threshold of sensation to the greatest brightness attainable under 
the conditions of the experiment, is, for white light, 572. The 
method is a simple one for the mathematician, and the only wonder 
is that it has not been applied before. If X and 8 X are the wave- 
lengths of two monochromatic lights which are just distinguishable 
from each other in tone, then 8X is a variable whose value depends 
upon the value of X. Within an interval of the spectrum for which 
X changes by any fixed unit, the number of distinguishable color 

tones would be J^, and the entire number throughout the spectrum 

would be 


x <*. 

taken between the limits X 430 and X 655, beyond which, in either 
direction, the color-tone does not change. The value of SX, at 
short intervals throughout the spectrum, has been experimentally 
determined by Uhthoff (Graft's Arch. y 34, 4, i); hence the required 
curve can be laid down and integrated by graphical means. The 
number of perceptible degrees of brightness is determined in the 
same manner from the experimental data furnished by Konig and 
Brodhun in their investigation of Weber's law (Sitzungsber : d. Btrl. 
Akad., 1888 and 1889); in this case it is necessary to produce the 


curve symmetrically somewhat beyond the part which can be laid 
down from actual measurements ; but that can safely be done, be- 
cause the area taken in by this means is only a small fraction of the 
whole area, and has therefore only a small effect upon the result. 
The entire number of discernible brightnesses is in this way found to 
be about 660. These results differ very little for the eyes of differ- 
ent normal individuals. For Brodhun, who is green-blind, the 
differences in sensitiveness to change of brightness were within the 
limit of probable error ; in color-tone his number of distinct sensa- 
tions is about 140. This number does not differ much from that of 
the normal eye, for the reason that, although his spectrum does not 
change beyond X 550, he has a keener sense for change of color-tone 
in the blue-green region than has the normal individual. 

In this connection it may be interesting to point out a most ex- 
traordinary statement which occurs in a book which is otherwise an 
admirable example of good scientific method Havelock Ellis' Men 
and Women. It is there stated that Newton was able to distinguish 
seven different colors in the spectrum, but that most people since 
his time have only been able to see six. To how many of the 165 
colors which are actually discernible by the ordinary person, it may 
be desirable to give a separate name for popular use is a question the 
answer to which may change from time to time ; but not to be able 
to distinguish between this question and the question of the number 
of colors which can be separated in sensation, is to have a mind which 
is abnormally incapable of drawing distinctions. 

The question of the number of differences of saturation which are 
just perceptible for different colors has been treated by Aubert, 
Woinow and J. J. Miiller ; but, of course, the subject lacks all inter- 
est when the investigation is not made with spectral lights. To de- 
termine by a corresponding method with the one here considered, 
the total number of distinguishable sensations caused by light of all 
kinds would require in effect the integration by mechanical means 
of a solid body in space of four dimensions what it is not beyond the 
powers of the mathematician to accomplish. 


Die Wahrnehmung von Helligkeitsveranderungen. L. W. STERN. 

Zeitsch. f. Psych., VII, 249-278. 1894. Nachtrag to the above. 

Ibid, VII, 395-397- 
Die Wahrnehmung von Bewegungen vermittelst des Auges. L. W. STERN. 

Zeitsch. f. Psych., VII, 321-386. 1894. 

A number of researches have recently been published (by Scrip- 



ture and Preyer, in Zeitsch. f. Psych., VI and VII) upon the man- 
ner in which variations in the rapidity with which a stimulus changes 
in intensity affects in various senses the perceptibility of the change. 
In the first of the above papers, with its Nachtrag y Stern investi- 
gates the same problem with reference to changes in brightness. 
After summing up the results of previous investigations, which have 
had to do mainly with the problem of the upper limit, or the condi- 
tions under which rapidly successive changes in brightness yield a 
continuous impression, he describes in detail his own researches as 
to the lower limit, or the conditions under which a slow (or a single) 
change in brightness is just perceptible. For these experiments he 
used a dark box, having on its further inside wall a round white 
field, which was illuminated by light thrown exactly on it through a 
lens, and apparatus for increasing or diminishing in measurable 
amount and rapidity the light passing through the lens, without al- 
tering the exact coincidence of its image with the white field on 
which it was thrown. His results, which he regards as only provis- 
ional, are as follows : i. When the brightening is approximately 
instantaneous, and is at once perceived, the relative sensitiveness ta 
change of intensity is constant ; Weber's law is valid. He found 
this relative sensitiveness to change to be about ^ not so fine as 
sensitiveness to simultaneous differences. 2. If the objective change 
lasts for a short time before it is perceived, the results as to relative 
sensitiveness and as to duration of objective movement before per- 
ception of change, are distinct: (a) The absolute rapidity of bright- 
ening remaining constant, the duration before perception of change 
is greater the greater the initial intensity ; within a certain range of 
intensities the sensitiveness to change remains constant, (b) The 
relative rapidity of change remaining constant, the duration is 
shorter, the relative sensitiveness greater, the smaller the initial 
intensity (and thus the absolute rapidity), (c) The initial intensity 
remaining constant, the duration is longer and the relative sensitive- 
ness greater, the smaller the absolute rapidity. (This does not 
apply to sensitiveness in case the perception of change is instanta- 
neous.) 3. Other things equal, changes in brightness are more rap- 
idly perceived and the relative sensitiveness is greater in indirect 
vision than in direct. 4. The relative sensibility is less ( to J) 
when the changes become perceptible only after an interval, than 
when they are perceptible at once. 5. The reaction time in percep- 
tion of gradual change in brightness is of considerable length (.4 to 
.7 sec.). Stern believes that the instantaneous perception of change 
in brightness is different from the perception of change through 


comparison of two phases ; both often cooperate, but can also ap- 
pear separately. 

Stern's second paper is a monograph on the question of the visual 
perception of movement. It consists of four subdivisions. The 
first (pp. 322-328) discusses the (i) facts upper and lower limit, 
difference between perception of phases of movement and of the 
movement itself, perception with resting and moving eye ; (2) the 
characteristics of movement-perception influence and recognition 
of direction, of rapidity, of duration, of presence of objects at rest, 
the sensitiveness to difference for and the attention to moving 
objects, and the relativity of movement ; (3) perception of move- 
ments with different portions of the retina ; and (4) visual illusions 
of movement. The second division (pp. 328-341) gives a historical 
summary of theories. The third (341-352) announces the results of 
the author's own observations and experiments, showing (i) a con- 
firmation of Exner's observation that the sensitiveness of the retina 
in the peripheral portions is greater for moving than for resting 
objects ; and that this is due to irradiation, for both irradiation and 
sensitiveness to movement diminish by diminished illumination ; and 
(2) that after-images of movement appear when the eyes are closed 
as well as when they are directed upon some resting object, after 
observing the movement ; they are both positive and negative if the 
eye has been fixated during an appreciable time, positive only if the 
eye has not been fixated during observation, or has been opened for 
a fraction of a second only. The fourth division (353-385) dis- 
cusses the theory of the visual perception of movements. Three 
theories as to the sensory factors in such perception are evidently 
possible: (i) that they consist of several successive impressions of 
the object at rest the different phases of the movement and that 
the fact of movement is inferred from these ; (2) that a sensation of 
movement exists, specifically different from other sensations, fully 
elementary and unanalyzable, like color or tone (held apparently by 
Exner, James, etc.); (3) that a single sensory impression, obtainable 
in a single instant, can yield the perception of movement ; but that 
this sensory impression, instead of being unanalyzable, consists really 
of a particular complex of sensations from retina or eye-muscles, or 
both. In other words, it is a sensory group, forming a 'fusion ' 
which is introspectively unanalyzable, but is really separable into ele- 
mentary sensations of color and of muscular contraction, with differ- 
ences in intensity, quality and spatial relations. The term ' sensa- 
tion' is applicable only in the sense in which it is used in express- 
ions like ' sensation of depth, of smoothness,' etc. Stern rightly 

316 VISION. 

rejects the second of these theories and accepts the other two. He 
linds that when the sensory impression is momentary, admitting of 
no comparison of phases, it may be of three varieties : (a) ' changed 
stimulation ' change in intensity or kind of stimulation in a given 
region of the retina may under certain conditions give the percep- 
tion of movement ; (b) the * after-image trail ' (Nachbildstreifen) 
in case of movement of a certain rapidity, the after-images of previ- 
ous phases are still present when a new phase is reached, and form a 
series of images of the same object, running into one another, and 
forming a complete scale of intensities. Thus different phases of 
the movement are seen simultaneously. Though we are not ordina- 
rily conscious of these after-images, yet they give to the sensory 
complex its particular nuance. Changed stimulation can inform 
only as to the fact of movement ; the after-image trail can inform also 
as to what the object is, its direction and rapidity, and makes possi- 
ble also the simultaneous perception of several movements in differ- 
ent directions, (c) Eye movements. These three principles, to- 
gether with the two varieties of comparison of phases (optical and 
muscular), make five sensory factors, any one of which may give the 
perception of movement, but which also form varied and compli- 
cated combinations with one another. Stern, in conclusion, applies 
these principles to the explanation of certain complicated percep- 
tions and illusions : the reversibility of the impression of movement, 
the relativity of movement, the rapidity and after-images of move- 

Stern nowhere discusses the part played by memory-images of 
other sensory factors, when any one of the above-named factors 
arouses the perception of movement. He claims, for instance, that 
the Nachbildstreifen alone, independently of eye-movement sensa- 
tions, can give the perception of movement. It is true that this 
may be the only present sensory factor. But the complete percep- 
tion of movement must be a very complicated affair, the gradually 
perfected product of a great amount of experience of cooperating 
sensory factors ; and may it not be that the memory-images of sen- 
sations from eye and other active bodily movements form a promi- 
nent and necessary factor in every perception of movement ? If so, 
then the Nachbildstreifen or other singly present sensory factor, 
ven when it arises from several simultaneous movements in differ- 
ent directions, would receive its perceptual interpretation as move- 
ment only through the admixture of such memory-images. 

Furthermore, to the reviewer, it has seemed as if there might be 
a sixth sensory factor sometimes operative, especially in case of the 


after-images of movement. When the eyes have been exposed for 
a length of time to a flickering light, the flickering sometimes con- 
tinues for a period after cessation of the stimulus ; and might be 
explained as a continuation of the rhythmic adjustment which the 
retina during stimulation is making to the rhythmically changing 
intensities of stimulation. Now in case of prolonged observation of 
a movement, as of a revolving spiral or a waterfall, etc., such flick- 
erings practically proceed in waves along the stimulated portions of 
the retina, and may possibly continue in the same or opposite sense 
on cessation of the stimulus, and be a factor in the positive and 
negative after-images of movement, which Stern attributes wholly 
to the Nachbildstreifen. E. B. DELABARRE. 



Experimented Untersuchungen iiber das Geddchtniss. W. LEWY. Zeitschr^. 
f. Psych. VIII, 231-272. 

Of the two groups of experiments here recorded, the first relates 
to memory (retentiveness) of small visual distances (20-200 mm.)., 
By the use of an appropriate * Augenmassapparat ' on which the 
* normal' distances were each exposed for 5 sees, in arbitrary order 
and by application of the method of average error, it was found that 
the error increased, in general, with the time of retention (1-60 
sees.), with exclusion of ocular movement, with distraction of the at- 
tention during the interval of retention, with shortened exposure- 
time, and when two distances for retention were taken in succession 
instead of one. The most striking exception was that one second 
for retention was much less favorable than two, due, in L.'s opinion,, 
not to oscillating attention, but to the necessary haste. Other 
variations suggesting periodicity in the clearness of the image, he 
inclines to attribute to causes as yet unknown. The memory was 
not appreciably improved by practice. 

The second group of experiments deals with the local memory of 
simple touch-sensations. The area of stimulation was a limited 
region on the dorsal side of the arm above the wrist, the method 
of measurement again that of average error. Under the most 
favorable conditions it was found that the error steadily increased 
with the time-interval for retention ; was more frequent and greater 
in a distal than in a proximal direction ; was less when estimated 
with reference to the point ultimately judged right than when referred 
to the point first selected ; curiously varied, being even in one case 


less, when the retention-interval was 'filled.' The slight influence 
of mental reckoning compared with its marked influence in the case 
of small visual distances, indicates the importance in reckoning 
of ocular movement. Accuracy of localisation was improved with 
practice, with variations, however, not easily explained. The intro- 
spective evidence, which is well presented as supplementary to the 
bare record of the tables, shows that the feeling of defective atten- 
tion by no means always coincides with greater error in localisation, 
while in the first group it shows how manifold and individually varied 
.are the factors which determine the accuracy of even a compara- 
tively simple act of recognition. 

The Relation of Attention to Memory. W. G. SMITH. Mind, N. S. IV, 
47-73. January, 1895. 

An experimental study from the Physiological Laboratory at Ox- 
ford! Under suitable conditions sets of letters were exposed each 
for 10 sees. ; the reagent then repeated what he could remember. 
While memorizing, the attention was variously distracted. Finally, 
experiments were made for 'normal' results. Comparison of the 
cases showed that the greatest disturbance was caused by the 
activity involved in summation (arithmetical progression), and that 
that produced by speech (repetition of a syllable) was greater than 
that produced by mere muscular movement (tapping with the 
finger). The results emphasize afresh the importance of the motor 
factor in memory, particularly in the suggested interference of the 
articulatory innervations involved in memorizing by the activity of 
the vocal mechanism. In the relatively large number of errors of 
insertion and displacement in the group where distraction was 
greatest, the author sees the influence of inattention not only to 
cause fewer ideas to be recollected, but especially to confuse and 
-derange the associative connections : this against Munsterberg. In- 
attention disturbs the apperceptive process, tends to turn Wahrneh- 
mung into Empfindung and to produce a sort of Seelenblindheit ; the 
essential fact in attention, on the other hand, is 'the strengthening 
of an idea or impression by the processes of blending and redintegra- 
tion.' Contiguity in association is merely formal ; the real causes 
are dynamic factors, such as Attention and Interest, and these 
mainly in connection with motor agencies. 

The author introduces a novel 'positive' method of measuring 
the accuracy of reproduction, viz., by marking it on a certain scale 
like an examination-paper ; but it does not appear to what extent 
the ' negative ' metlmd ,of .error, -which he also uses, is thereby con- 


trolled. The paper as a whole represents a noteworthy transition 
from the experimental study of the time-relations of memory begun 
by Ebbinghaus to the more difficult experimental study of the 
analysis and dynamic relations of its constituents. 

What do we mean by Intensity of Psychical States? F. H. BRADLEY. 
Mind, N. S. IV, 1-27. January, 1895. 

That sensations are not measurable quantities, that "our judg- 
ments of more intensity can be expressed without the hypothesis 
that more units have been added to a growing sum" (James), is an 
opinion now widely prevalent as the result of innumerable discussions 
of Fechner's psycho-physical formula. Such is not the opinion of 
Mr. Bradley. He holds that not sensations only, but psychical 
states generally, have quantity in all manner of respects, are in 
principle measurable, and therefore, since degrees not resting on 
units are meaningless, do, in some sense, imply the hypothesis 
which the above quotation rejects. The argument, which is too 
subtle and elaborate for brief reproduction, admirably succeeds in 
its professed object of raising doubts. In the exposure of ambigui- 
ties, the analysis of aspects, in fact, the whole dialectical 'business* 
of discovering and considering difficulties, Mr. Bradley shows his 
unrivalled skill : there may be much more to say on the points 
noticed, it would be hard to name any point essential to the discus- 
sion which has been overlooked. The article is too important to be 
passed without comment, especially by psychologists committed to an 
opposite theory, who in propositions like the following, ' the idea of 
the extended has extension, the idea of the heavy has weight,' etc., 
will no doubt find matter for explosion. On the other hand, the 
views which Mr. Bradley recommends would seem to have little 
bearing on the actual measurement of states of consciousness, so far, 
at least, as they are considered as amounts of psychical existence ; 
for here the units, though they must be assumed, cannot probably 
be shown. Relativity of strength or amount, distinctions of kinds 
and scales these are the leading ideas, the import of which may be 
seen in the confusion which disregard of them has brought into 
many a controversy. 

An Analysis of Attention. ALEXANDER F. SHAND. Mind, N. S. Ill, 

449-473. October, 1894. 

The confusion complained of by Mr. Bradley has certainly not 
been wanting in the controversy as to the effect on the intensity of 
mental states produced by attention. Attention is said to increase 


the strength of sensations and the clearness of ideas, and in general 
to be connected with predominance in consciousness of the presented 
content ; with which assertions the view that attention is not itself 
presentable but a 'special activity* of the subject is sometimes 
associated. Mr. Shand denies the necessity of this supposed con- 
nection of attention with increased intensity or clearness in the 
object : the object may become obscured or even fade out while we 
watch it a remark which seems also to deny that the so-called fluc- 
tuations of attention need be fluctuations of attention at all. What 
attention really does is to make us more clearly aware of the object, 
to make our consciousness of it predominant, or rather, since * atten- 
sion' merely expresses the fact 'I am attending/ it is this clearer 
awareness. The changed strength of the object is primarily due to 
variable concomitants of attention, such as accommodation and 
'interest'; attention itself is a distinct process. This process con- 
sists in apperceiving a felt content in such sort as to develop a 
greater awareness of its systematic complexity. Its earlier stages 
actively condition the later ; it also reacts, the duality of conscious- 
ness being after all a 'continuum,' on the idea or sensation attended 
to, so far, namely, as to make that more active in evoking the 
fusion and association necessary to the further understanding of the 
object. Thus one element in attention is 'feeling,' immediate 
awareness of presentation, the other is 'thought' or interpretation. 
And this process, pace Mr. Ward, is as directly felt or experienced 
as sensation. 

That I am or may become aware of the degrees of my awareness, 
and that attention, in the sense defined, is therefore a fact of ex- 
perience and not a metaphysical abstraction seems indisputable. 
How far, on the other hand, it is rightly said to be directly felt, may 
be a question of terminology ; but in asserting this direct feeling of 
a distinct process as over against the feeling of what are described 
as its concomitants, e. g., the strain of accommodation, etc., Mr. 
Shand is virtually engaged in a triangular combat he opposes not 
only Ward, but some to whom Ward is himself opposed. 



La Sanction Morale. F. PAULHAN. Revue Philosophique, Mars, 
1894, pp. 267-286, and Avril, 1894, pp. 395-419. 

According to the author, the Moral Sanction is the logical con- 
sequence of responsibility. Responsibility is merely a certain apti- 


tude for the sanction. The moral tendency of the first is satisfied 
by the second, in much the same manner as the tendency of hunger 
is satisfied by the act of eating. To regard a sanction as logical and 
moral, implies a logical and moral world perfectly systematized, and 
which is realized in our world in proportion as that world is moral 
and logical. The consequences of the acts of an individual, which 
constitute this moral sanction, may affect the individual himself if 
the personality regarded as a whole is responsible, or merely the ten- 
dencies which have determined these acts; but always in a way cal- 
culated to lead to a more complete systematization of the whole, an 
element of which experiences the sanction. The only end and the 
only justification of punishment or of reward, the essential elements 
of the sanction, are the elimination or prevention of evil, the furth- 
erance or the development of the good. Pleasure and pain are 
signs of the sanction rather than the sanction itself. Repression of 
evil is in itself a sign of disorder; in a perfect world, devoid of evil, 
punishment would be wanting and the sanction would consist merely 
in the preservation of the organism. 

As regards partial and impartial responsibility and the correspond- 
ing sanction, inasmuch as there is always a certain solidarity between 
the different parts of a moral person, the responsible element can be 
reached ordinarily only by acting upon the individual or upon another 
element. The more this element is systematically associated with 
the individual, the more the sanction applied to the individual will 
result in coordinating the elements of the ego, so that they in turn 
will exercise their combined influence upon the responsible element, 
and consequently the more the reward or punishment of the individ- 
ual will be just, and will have the character of a moral sanction. 
However, inasmuch as the complete coordination, or total incoordina- 
tion of the psychical elements are purely theoretical cases, no sanc- 
tion affecting the entire personality is ever applied either with 
absolute justice, or absolute injustice. 

The general rules of the sanction apply also to the diseased, to 
the insane as well as the sane. So far as parts of their minds, some 
tendencies, may still afford some degree of coordination, they may 
be the object of a moral sanction. In the great majority of cases 
the sanction should not be applied to the whole of the personality; 
consequently tribunal intervention would be uncalled for. The sanc- 
tion applies vigorously to criminals who are called insane only because 
they lack altruistic, or moral feelings, provided the coordination of 
their acts and feelings is complete and consistent in all other respects. 

The sanctions of the social organism are akin to the sanctions of 


the psychical, and the two follow a similar process of development, in 
which three distinct stages may be noted. The first and inferior 
form of sanction is automatic in character, and arises where the 
systematization is but slight; the final form is also automatic, but 
superior in this that the systematization is far greater. There is an 
intermediary stage of a conscious form of sanction, where prepara- 
tion is made simultaneously or successively for the superior automat- 
ism. This is accomplished by the growth and synthesis of the new 
elements which are to enter into the final stage, and by the coordina- 
tion of the acquisitions already made, and also by the more active 
intervention of the social ego which has not regularly interposed in 
the first stage, and which in the final one is represented by the gen- 
eral solidarity of the elements of the system. The sanction is more 
perfect in proportion as the good is more simply encouraged and the 
evil more simply restrained, and the greater, the precision, without 
employing intermediaries merely to apply the sanction. The penal 
sanction is therefore indirect and incomplete. The perfect natural 
sanction, without intention of reward or punishment, is the best and 
highest form. F. Paulhan, in short, regards the moral sanction as a 
particular case of natural selection, in the conservation of the good, 
and the elimination of the evil. It seems to me, however, that the 
conscious feature of the intermediate stage in the development of 
the moral sanction from inferior to superior automatism, implies a 
voluntary psychical factor which is quite foreign to natural selection. 
In this stage would appear reflection, deliberation, conflict of desires, 
the various manifestations of moral feeling, etc., all of which must 
either be explained away, or their importance unduly minimized if F. 
Paulhan's account is to stand. Moreover his designation of sanc- 
tions as just, or unjust, introduces ideas whose metaphysical implica- 
tions are incompatible with a naturalistic ethic. 

Origines et conditions de la moralitd. PIOGER. Revue Philosophique, 
Juin, 1894. Pp. 634-656. 

The author contends that there is a difference between a theory 
of morals and moral practice. The latter antedates the former and 
gives form and content to it. The early moral, and religious prac- 
tices as well, have preeminently a social character. Even the con- 
ception itself of moral good implies the conception of a social good. 
Morality is not merely a matter of the intention ; and even if it 
were, the intention must be regarded as having very complex ante- 
cedents, and as a part of an extended system showing a solidarity 
in the act and in the intention, and a still more complex solidarity 


of act and intention taken together. Morality is rather the product 
of sociability, producing social instincts, appearing in the form of 
customs, moral practices, and finally a theory of morals. As health 
is the harmony of organic functions, morality is the harmonious 
manner in which the reciprocal relations of social beings is estab- 
lished. Immorality is social disease. 

There is no intuitive moral law before experience, for there is 
experienced morality before the consciousness of moral law began to 
dawn. This is abundantly established by the marked sociability 
among animals and an unbroken line of development from the social 
instincts of the lowest order of animals to the reflective morality of 
the most highly civilized man. Morality is, therefore, the result of 
the social and moral evolution of the race. The unconscious soli- 
darity of social animals, the morality of the Fuegians and Tasma- 
nians, and the advanced morality of our age, all have the common 
elements of reciprocity and mutual dependence. Even in the life 
of to-day conscious morality is the exception, and automatic, in- 
stinctive morality is the rule. Reflection, questionings of con- 
science, deliberations of the will, all mark a derangement of the 
natural moral functioning. Therefore, since morality is developed, 
it is necessary to go to the simplest and earliest forms of its mani- 
festation to discern its essential character. Beginnings of morality 
emerge in the necessities of hunger, defense, reproduction, etc. ; 
this is true also for all social animals. In history morality develops 
parallel to social organization. The force of obligation and of 
moral sanction lie in the appreciation of the end conservation 
of the species and the race. Intelligence becomes more and more 
aware of the necessity and advantage of solidarity. Moral senti- 
ments are accounted for, inasmuch as the organic functional charac- 
ter of morality is such as to form an integral part of our social 
vitality, and cannot be disturbed or inhibited without results dis- 
turbing it and the unity of action of all our functions. The genesis 
of social conscience arises through a differentiation of the nervous 
system especially adapted to the reception of social excitations, as 
the sense of sight results from a nervous differentiation especially 
adapted to receive luminous vibrations. Morality is conformable to 
the same general laws of differentiation, and of coordination, and 
adaptation and organization, as our other forms of physiological and 
psychological activity. 

Dr. Pioger, as it will be seen, takes a point of view similar to 
that of F. Paulhan. His article contains also several unwarranted 
inferences. While it is true that the lower order of animals, the 


morality of the Fuegians, and that of the most highly civilized peo- 
ples, may contain the common element of sociability, still that com- 
mon element represents a minimum which is quite inadequate to 
express completely the essential features of morality. Prof. Ed- 
ward Caird's contention in reference to the evolution of religion has 
a similar application to ethic: "that we must read development 
backward and not forward, and that we must find the key to the 
meaning of the first stage in the last ; for to trace a living being 
back to its beginning, and to explain what follows from it by such a 
beginning, would be simply to omit almost all that characterizes it, 
and then to suppose that in what remains we have the secret of its 
existence." While morality may be necessarily concerned with 
social relations, it may quite as well give law to qualify and trans- 
form these relations, as that these relations should determine wholly 
the character of the emerging laws. That moral practices existed 
before formulated laws does not prove that the laws were not exist- 
ent, implicitly at least ; nor can it be inferred that the laws were 
merely a classification or a summation of these practices. 

The Method of Idealist Ethics. H. MELLONE. Philosophical Review, 
January, 1895. Pp. 47-64. 

The most fundamental ethical question is the following : What is 
the supreme Ideal of human life ? An answer to this implies an 
answer to other questions dependent upon it, the meaning and sig- 
nificance of moral authority ; the ultimate criterion of morality in 
conduct, the connotation of the conception of right ; and the proxi- 
mate criterion, the denotation of right. The question of there 
being an ultimate ideal is an ontological one ; it is the question of 
the nature and purpose of the individual life. The ideal is regu- 
lative, not in the sense of showing us what is to be done, but that 
something must be done. Ideas of the concrete forms of duty come 
from sociological and historical studies, which, however, belong 
rather to the sphere of practical or applied ethics. In the analysis 
of our judgments we find some depending on a standard of truth, 
but others depending upon a standard of value. The latter from 
two classes ; one, which is formed independently of the will, aesthetic 
judgments; the other, are ethical judgments depending on a stand- 
ard of right ; that is, on a meaning or purpose in our lives. The 
motive which prompts us to seek for standards of value in these three 
respects is experienced under the form of feeling. The standard is 
felt as an obligatory ideal ; in thought, as an ideal of truth ; in con- 
duct and character, of goodness; in (creative) art, of beauty. Natu- 


ralism or Materialism cannot explain these ideals. In them Idealism 
finds a key to the nature of the Absolute. Feeling is the fundamen- 
tal medium of connection and communication between the individ- 
ual and the universal consciousness. Purposive action is feeling- 
prompted action. This induces a striving or e/ows in our nature of a 
three-fold character, corresponding to the three ideals truth, good- 
ness, beauty. From the individual point of view this striving is 
after what is not yet realized, but may be so what is potentially 
ours. From the universal point of view, these feelings, as they tend 
to become supreme, constitute a self-surrender to that which is ex- 
ternally real. A process in time cannot be the ultimate and most 
fundamental fact in the universe. In so far as the absolute is such 
a process, or has a history, its essential nature is not manifest. 
However, it is necessary to keep firm hold on the reality of the time- 
processes of growth and change in the individual lives for which the 
ideal may be more or less fully realized. Here we are confronted 
with the problem : In what sense is time a reality ? Time or change 
is neither an absolute reality nor an absolute unreality. There 
must be some via media between them, which makes it possible to 
conceive of reality as a multiplicity of individual, finite, growing 
lives, immanent in a universal and eternally complete life. 

The author's comment at the end is in itself the most appropriate 
criticism of the article as a whole: ''this is not to attain to a full 
explanation, but only to begin to see the possibility of one." He is 
to be commended for his insistence upon a distinct selfhood of the 
individual, however, immanent in the universal life. 



On some of the newer Aspects of the Pathology of Insanity. W. L. AND- 
RIEZEN. Brain, Part LXVIII, winter 1894. 

Owing to many improvements, to which the author himself has 
been an active contributor, the silver staining method of Golgi has 
been brought sufficiently under control to enable the detailed 
anatomy of the central system to be studied by its aid, and to 
warrant its application to pathological material. 

This paper of one hundred. and fifty pages attempts a statement 
of the fundamental plan underlying the arrangements of the nerve 
cells in the central system ; the expression of this plan in the cere- 
bral cortex ; an examination of the cortex in the vertebrate series, 
and by this means the determination of the highly elaborated 
arrangement in man, and the separation of those parts which are 


fundamental from those which have been later added, and which 
constitute the important distinctions between this most complex 
cortex and that of lower vertebrates. 

To all points of the cortex impulses come in over afferent path- 
ways and from lower centres, and leave by efferent elements whose 
cell-bodies form part of the cortical layer. In this manner all parts 
of the cortex, where radiations of sensory pathway are found, become 
turning points, at which such incoming impulses are transmuted into 
those outgoing. At some of these points, it appears, that sensa- 
tions may follow an experimental stimulation of the cortex itself, 
even though the stimulus be insufficient to give rise to a well marked 
efferent impulse with its associated reactions, and in this we see, 
not only a confirmation of common experience, but also warrant for 
the inference that in the upper layers of the cortex are to be found 
the structures whose activity is accompanied by consciousness. In 
confirmation of this general conclusion there is found a greater 
differentiation of the outer portion of the cortex in the predomi- 
nantly sensory regions as shown, for example, by the development 
of Gennari's stripe in the visual area. 

The cortex of man is most different from that of other verte- 
brates by reason of the great development of the deepest layers of 
cells. All observations point to these cells as concerned in associat- 
ing the cortical areas one with another, and we thus have, as con- 
trasted with other vertebrates, an unusual anatomical development 
in man to be associated with the unusual form of mental activity in 
man. Passing on to the application of these facts to disease arising 
from disturbances in the cortex, A. finds in cases of alcoholic insan- 
ity a degeneration of the dendrons, and even of the cell-bodies of 
the larger cells constituting the middle layer in both the Rolandic 
and occipital areas, changes which, in the first instance, would 
render the passage of the impulses from the incoming fibres to these 
cells more difficult ; and in the second, when the cell body itself is 
involved, must modify and weaken the subsequent discharge from it, 
thus giving a good anatomical basis for the symptoms observed. The 
changes just mentioned, however, are extreme, and between cells so 
altered, and those in full health, all gradations may be observed. 

Throughout the paper the anatomical point of view is that which 
has been recently worked out by the more advanced investigations 
in this line, and need not be here recapitulated. In the course of 
the argument many matters are discussed, but the paper is most im- 
portant by reason of the good histological evidence here offered for 


the architecture of the cortex, and most interesting to psychologists 
because of the attempt to correlate this architecture with some fun- 
damental features of brain activity. H. H. D. 

La Psychologic de I* Amour. G. DANVILLE. Paris, Alcan, 1894. 
Pp. 169. 

M. Danville (the pseudonyme by which a brother of one of our 
most distinguished neuro-pathologists conceals his identity), is al- 
ready known in France by his stories, and by a curious article pub- 
lished in the Revue Philosophique : ' Is love a pathological state ? ' 
(March, 1893). His present book broaches a question which until 
now has never been scientifically treated, although the way has been 
cleared by previous works by Stendhal, Balzac, Schopenhauer, 
Mantagazza, and Bourget. M. Danville gives us nothing that can be 
properly called the psychology of love as founded on observation 
and testimony (which would be a very useful work). What he gives 
us is a definition of love. Love is (i) a specific, entity-like motive, 
distinct from tenderness, sympathy, pleasure, benevolence, etc. ; (2) 
subject to exclusive systematization, with consciousness of sexual 
desire toward a definite person of the other sex; that is to say, in 
less barbarous terms, that real love is monogamous; (3) accompanied 
by exaltation of sexual desire. Love is not itself sexual desire, the 
latter is only an accompaniment or an effect; (4) it is accompanied 
by special mental processes. As a phenomenon of consciousness love 
may be described in the following way: It forms in each of us, 
by successive perception of those who awake the sexual instinct, a 
latent subconscious image which sums up all our preferences; it is 
for a man an ideal image of the most perfect woman; it is some- 
thing like Galton's composite image, developed in connection with a 
particular sense. This image persists through a long time, aided by 
any daily attention which it may receive. Every normal adult thus 
possesses within him such a subconscious synthesis which is nothing 
else than his latent power of loving, to be brought out when any 
real being approximates its characteristics closely enough to call it 
into activity. It is a curious and, possibly, new theory; and is the 
only thing in the book of which as much can be said. A. B. 


328 NOTES. 


Substance and Attributes. ANON. London, Kegan Paul, French, 

Triibner & Co, 1895. Pp. XV -f 197. 
The Foundations of Belief. A. J. BALFOUR. New York, Longmans, 

Green & Co., 1895. Pp. VIII + 366. 
Gehirn und Seele: Rede des Rectors. P. FLECHSIG. Leipzig, Edel- 

mann, 1894. 
Dictionnaire de Physiologic. CH. RICHET. Tome I, Fasc. i, A AH. 

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. XII + 336. 8 fr. 50. 
The Gospel of Buddha. P. CARUS. Second ed. Chicago, Open 

Court Pub. Co., 1895. Pp. XIII + 275. 

La vie et la pense'e. T. PIOGER. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 260. 
Introduction to the Theory of Science and Metaphysics. A. RIEHL. 

Trans, by A. Fairbanks. London, Kegan Paul, French, Triib- 
ner & Co., 1894. Pp. VIII -f 346. 
De'ge'ner^'s et Desequibre's. J. DALLEMAGNE. Brussels, Lamertin; 

Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. 658. 
Entartung und Genie : Neue Studien. C. LOMBROSO. (Deutsch von 

Kurella). Leipzig, Wigand, 1894. Pp. 308. 
Degeneration. MAX NORDAU. New York, Appletons, 1895. Pp. 

Thoughts on Religion. G. J. ROMANES. Edited by Charles Gore. 

Chicago, the Open Court Pub. Co., 1895. P P- l8 4- $ I - 2 5. 
The Philosophy of Lotze : the Doctrine of Thought. H. JONES. New 

York, Macmillan & Co., 1895. Pp. XVI + 375. 
John Stuart Mill. C. DOUGLASS. Edinburgh and London, Black- 
wood & Son, 1895. Pp. XV + 274. 


Dr. D. Hack Tuke, the well-known writer on mental diseases and 
editor of the Journal of Mental Science, died in London on March 5. 
The current issue of the Princeton College Bulletin (Vol. VII, No. i) 
is devoted entirely to memorials of the late ex-President James 
McCosh. It contains articles by President Patton, Prof. A. F. 
West, and Prof. W. Libbey, Jr., a poem by Robert Bridges, a por- 
trait, and a useful bibliography of Dr. McCosh's writings (over eight 
two-column pages) compiled by J. H. Dulles. 

Dr. Ernst Mach, professor of physics in the University of Prague, 
has accepted a professorship of philosophy in the University of 
Vienna, and will direct a laboratory of experimental psychology. 

VOL. II. No. 4. JULY, 1895. 




University of Chicago. 

The theory of pleasure and pain, so ably advocated by 
Mr. Marshall, 1 certainly represents a widespread opinion 
among the competent in our department. Among its up- 
holders are Wundt and Hoffding, Kiilpe and Lehmann, Sully 
and Bradley, besides prominent members of this association. 2 
According to this theory, pleasure and pain are not inde- 
pendent mental contents, capable of existing in conscious- 
ness alone, but a side or aspect of other contents a sort of 
modification or coloring of sensations and ideas. In Prof. 
James's happy phrase, they are mere manners of experi- 
encing ' these other contents. Wherever we feel a pain, there 
we have a sensation or idea, distinct from the pain, with 
reference to which the pain is felt. Furthermore, we never 
have a sensation or idea which is not felt with some degree 
of pleasure or pain. So that in every actual state of mind 
we are able to distinguish these two sides, the cognitive 
and the affective. The affective side of a sensation is called 
its feeling-tone, and feeling-tone is conceived as a necessary 
attribute, to be classed with quality and intensity. 

The following quotations will serve to make the doctrine 
clearer. Sully remarks that " pleasure and pain do not occur 
as isolated experiences, but in close connection with presen- 

1 Pain, Pleasure, and ^Esthetics, London, 1894. 

1 Read before the American Psychological Association at its Princeton meeting. 


330 C. A. STKONG. 

tative elements." 1 Bradley says: " Without sensation we 
never have pleasure or pain. Not a pleasure, but some- 
thing pleasant is what we experience. ... If we like to apply 
the term aspect, or side, or moment, these are all open to 
objection, as metaphors must be. But what they try to say 
is that .... pain and pleasure do not exist apart from sensa- 
tion, any more than duration or intensity are ever discovered 
by themselves." 2 And Mr. Marshall holds that pleasure 
and pain are " differential qualities of all mental states, of 
such nature that one of them must and either of them may, 
under their proper conditions, belong to any element of con- 
sciousness." 3 

Mr. Marshall calls this the quale theory of pleasure and 
pain, but it seems to me that a more readily intelligible name 
would be the aspect theory, and I shall so designate it in 
this paper. What I propose to do is to inquire whether this 
theory gives a correct account of a single concrete experi- 
ence, that of physical pain. And the kind of physical pain 
I shall especially consider is pain felt through the skin. But 
the whole question suffers from ambiguity. The word pain 
signifies not only (i) the feeling we have when the skin is 
cut or burnt, that which the Germans call Schmerz ; but also 
(2) the feeling of displeasure excited in us by this and other 
experiences, that which the Germans call Unlust. Now I 
am aware that the aspect theory is primarily a theory of dis- 
pleasure. So far as this is so, I am not concerned with it in 
this paper. I agree that displeasure is always felt with 
reference to a content distinct from itself. But the aspect 
theory regards pain as the highest degree of displeasure, 
and holds that the pain of a cut or a burn can always be ana- 
lysed into a tactile or temperature sensation on the one hand 
and a feeling of displeasure on the other. These are the 
doctrines I wish especially to examine. That pain usually 
calls forth displeasure I do not question ; but that pain is 
displeasure, and is always felt with reference to a tactile or 
temperature sensation, is what I am inclined to doubt. I 

1 The Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 7. 

*Mind, No. XLIX, p. 2. Cf. Wundt, Phys. Psych., 3d ed., Vol. I, p. 509 infra. 

1 Pain, Pleasure, and ^Esthetics, p. 3. 


propose, therefore, to take up the experience of cutaneous 
pain, and to look at it first from the neurological and after- 
wards from the introspective point of view, with the aim of 
ascertaining whether the account of it given by the aspect 
theory is correct. 


The question of special pain terminations I shall not dis- 
cuss; for, now that Goldscheider has withdrawn his former 
claims on their behalf, 1 there remains little competent testi- 
mony to their existence. I pass at once to the important 
question of the psychological bearing of the condition known 
as analgesia. It has been maintained that this condition 
demonstrates the existence of special paths for pain, and so 
disposes of the aspect theory : let us inquire how far this is 

i. Analgesia, as every one knows, signifies loss of sensi- 
bility to pain without necessary loss of tactile or tempera- 
ture sensibility. Schiff produced this condition in animals 
by sectioning the gray matter of the spinal cord and leaving 
the posterior columns of the white matter intact ; though I be- 
lieve that physiologists question the rigor of his experiments. 
Analgesia occurs at a stage in the action of cocaine on the 
skin, and in that of ether or chloroform on the nerve-centres 
the result being that the patient feels the touch of the sur- 
geon's knife without feeling the pain of the cut. It also 
occurs in certain spinal diseases. In syringo-myelia, for 
example, pain and temperature sensations are lost, while 
tactile sensations remain normal. In locomotor ataxia, a fre- 
quent symptom is analgesia of the legs ; and such patients 
often get burns or sores without noticing, or even allow a 
fractured bone to go untreated, because they feel no pain. 

But the most striking cases occur in hysteria. "Some 
women," says Dr. Weir Mitchell, 2 "remain for years with- 
out the pain sense. In one case of mine a hysterical para- 
lytic recovered really useful health, and except herself and 

1 Ueber den Schmerz, Berlin, 1894. 
* Medical Record, Dec. 24, 1892. 

332 C. A. STRONG. 

myself no one knows that she cannot be hurt by knife or 
fire or a blow. The interior organs still feel pain as usual. 
All other forms of skin sense are as keen as ever. This 
woman used to hurt or burn herself from want of care ; now 
she has learned to take heed. I have seen many such, but 
only one other where the general health was as competent. 
She doubts now whether she would accept anew the natural 
condition of the pain sense." 

In the same address Dr. Mitchell mentions a remarkable 
case of natural analgesia which deserves to be brought to 
the attention of psychologists. It is reported by a Georgia 
physician, Dr. Paul Eve, and is that of a man said never to 
have known pain. Dr. Eve says he knew the patient per- 
sonally, and was for years intimate with his family' physi- 
cians, who often spoke of Mr. A.'s peculiar incapacity to 
feel pain. Mr. A. was about 56 years old at the time of 
his death. He was a corpulent man, weighing about 250 
pounds, and had been a free liver. He was a lawyer by pro- 
fession, of good intellect, a man of strong mind and body, 
and had acquired a considerable reputation as an advocate 
and politician. During a political campaign, not liking the 
appearance of a finger which had been injured in an affray, 
he bit it off himself and spat it upon the ground. He had at 
one time an ulcer on a toe which resisted treatment for 
nearly three years; he told his physician at the time, and 
repeated the statement later, that from first to last it never 
gave him any pain. He also had at one time an abscess in 
his hand, involving the whole forearm and arm, which be- 
came enormously swollen and threatened his life ; the lancet 
had to be freely used ; yet during the whole treatment he 
said he experienced no pain. He said he felt no pain when 
his eyes were operated on for cataract; and Dr. Eve says 
he can vouch for his statue-like immobility during the second 
operation. Only during his last illness did he complain of 
pain for a time, but passed into his usual insensible condi- 
tion before he died. "It is proper to say," observes Dr. 
Eve, "that Mr. A. was a man of great probity, and never 
boasted of being insensible to pain." 

2. Analgesia, however, is only one among a number of 


similar conditions, the so-called partial anaesthesias. Thus 
we may have the converse condition of tactile anaesthesia, or 
temperature anaesthesia, or both, without analgesia. Schiff 
produced this condition in animals by sectioning- the poste- 
rior columns of the cord and leaving the gray matter intact. 
It is said to be producible by anointing the skin with acetic 
or carbolic acid. 1 Finally, it occurs in nervous disease. 
Hosier 2 has recorded the case of a woman with brain dis- 
ease whose right side was insensitive to touch, though pain 
and temperature sensations remained normal. The prick of 
a pin caused distinct pain, yet she did not feel the laying-on 
of the entire hand. When a fold of skin was lifted between 
the fingers and severely pinched, she was aware of what had 
happened through the pain alone. In a case of locomotor 
ataxia, also recorded by Hosier, the prick of a pin caused 
pain everywhere, yet on the left leg the pressure sense was 
so dulled that the patient could not tell the difference be- 
tween 100 and 500 grams, nor even feel their weight on the 

3. The facts thus far given seem to justify the conclusion 
that the senses of touch and of pain are independent of each 
other. But they likewise indicate that the sense of tem- 
perature is independent of both. For where pain is lost and 
touch retained, temperature is sometimes retained and some- 
times lost; and, conversely, where touch is lost and pain 
retained, temperature is sometimes retained and sometimes 
lost. Indeed, it is probable that the temperature sense must 
be divided into a sense of heat and a sense of cold ; for cases 
are on record in which cold sensations were lost and heat 
sensations retained, and other cases in which heat sensations 
were lost and cold sensations retained. 3 

To sum up : The conclusion generally drawn by patholo- 
gists is that the skin possesses four distinct forms of sensi- 
bility, namely, touch, cold,' heat and pain, and, that any one 
or any combination of these may be lost or impaired without 

1 Beaunis, Les Sensations Internes, p. 214. 
1 Berliner Klinische Wochenschrift, 1868. 
'See Foster, Physiology, 5th ed., Part III, p. noi. 



detriment to the rest. The nerve-impulses which awaken 
these different kinds of sensation are assumed to pass up- 
ward by distinct paths in the spinal cord, and the partial 
anaesthesias are explained in an anatomical way by the block- 
ing of these paths. Whether this explanation is the true 
one we shall see later on. 

Let us at present consider how the aspect theorists meet 
the facts of partial anaesthesia. They do so in a very sim- 
ple manner, namely, by holding that the fourth sense is not 
properly a pain sense, but a sense whose normal product is 
what Mr. Marshall calls the cutting-pricking sensation, and 
that it is the exaggeration of this sensation which gives rise 
to pain. What is lost, according to Mr. Marshall, in anal- 
gesia is the cutting-pricking sense with its pain-giving 
capacity, while the tactile and temperature senses with their 
pain-giving capacities remain unimpaired. 1 

This seems a not unnatural interpretation of the facts. 
But when we go on to ask what are the pain-giving capaci- 
ties of the tactile and temperature senses alone, the answer is 
one of some importance to the aspect theory. For the pain- 
giving capacities of these senses alone appear to be practi- 
cally zero. The analgesic will endure a violent blow on the 
skin, or the contact of ice or of a red-hot iron, without the 
slightest trace of discomfort. So that, if the aspect theorist 
still holds that tactile and temperature sensations in them- 
have an affective coloring, he must at least admit that this 
selves coloring never amounts to positive pain. 

Observe the consequences of this admission. One of 
them is that, when we get a painful burn, and suppose the 
pain to be a modification or aspect of the heat, we are under 
an illusion. For the pain and the heat are called forth by 
separate nerve-fibres. Or when we feel a painful pressure, 
and suppose the pain to be an attribute of the pressure, we 
are under an illusion. The pain can at most be an attribute 
of the cutting-pricking sensation, if we admit its existence. 
But what is this cutting-pricking sensation, if we mean by it 
the feeling of being cut or pricked ? Is it not a tactile sensa- 

1 Pain, Pleasure, and Esthetics, pp. 19, 2O. 


tion, due to the inevitable stimulation of tactile terminations 
which just precedes the prick or the cut ? If Mr. Marshall 
refers to anything else, I confess he seems to me to be wil- 
fully assuming a new kind of sensation, without sufficient 
introspective evidence, for the sake of a theory. 

It seems to me (speaking from the point of view of the 
aspect theory) that Mr. Marshall would have done well in 
this matter had he followed the example of the judicious 
Foster, whose doctrine his own so closely parallels. Fos- 
ter 1 agrees with Goldscheider 2 that "we have no evidence 
that simple stimulation of the retina, however excessive, 
will give rise to pain meaning by pain the kind of sensation 
we feel when the skin is cut or burnt. . . . We have no evi- 
dence that an auditory or an olfactory or a gustatory sensa- 
tion can, through mere intensity, become converted into a 
sensation of pain. . . . We may assume that the pain which 
we feel when the finger is cut is a wholly different thing 
from the pain which is given to the most delicately musical 
ear by even the most horrible discord." And these consid- 
erations suggest to Foster that cutaneous pain is not simply 
an exaggeration of tactile or temperature sensations, but a 
separate sensation developed in a different way. But even 
on the assumption that this difference of pain-giving capacity 
is not one of kind, but only one of degree, it is surely im- 
portant to emphasize the distinction between the senses 
which are normally analgesic and those which are not. These 
remarks I make hypothetically, from the point of view of 
the aspect theory, which for reasons soon to be explained I 
am unable to accept. 

Goldscheider, 3 while agreeing with Foster that sight, 
hearing, taste, and smell are analgesic, thinks it unnecessary 
to assume a fourth set of cutaneous fibres, and refers cuta- 
neous pains to the sense of touch. He believes that the 
temperature sense is analgesic, while the sense of touch is 
not ; and bases this opinion on the fact that pains can be pro- 

1 Physiology, 5th ed., Part IV, pp. 281, 282. 
* Ueber den Schmerz, p. 8. 
3 Ibid, p. 13. 

336 C. A. STRONG. 

duced by stimulating the pressure spots but not the heat and 
cold spots. How far this view is a necessary inference from 
his observations I cannot judge, but there are further facts 
of nervous disease which seem to contradict both it and the 
view of Foster, and, indeed, to be quite irreconcilable with 
the interpretation of the partial anaesthesias thus far given. 
I refer, first, to a symptom of locomotor ataxia recently put 
forward by One of Prof. Starr's assistants, Dr. Skinner, and 
consisting in a hyperalgesia of temperature without accom- 
panying hyperalgesia of touch. 1 

The tests were made by heating or cooling water in a 
test-tube and holding the tube against the skin. For warmth 
the water was heated to 120 F. (50 C.), for cold it was 
cooled to 50 F. (10 C.) temperatures quite supportable to 
a normal nervous system, but productive of pain to these 
tabetics. Out of 24 cases examined, the tests showed the 
presence of hyperalgesia to both heat and cold in three, and 
of hyperalgesia to heat alone in one. In one of the three 
cases the symptoms were very marked, the patient starting 
and uttering an exclamation of pain when the test-tube was 
applied to the skin. In this case there was analgesia of both 
legs to pricking and pinching, and the hyperalgesia to tem- 
perature was present over the analgesic areas, and over these 
areas only. The heat was always recognized as heat and the 
cold as cold. In another case there was no disturbance of 
cutaneous sensibility except the hyperalgesia to tempera- 
ture, and this was greater to cold than to heat so great, in 
fact, that the patient begged to have the test-tube removed 
at once, although the temperature of the water was only 58' 
F. (15 C.). 

I may remark in passing that this interesting symptom is 
not so new as Dr. Skinner supposes. Dr. Bolko Stern men- 
tions it distinctly in an article in the Archiv fur Psychiatric 
for 1886. He noticed in certain cases a manifest hyperal- 
gesia to contact with cold objects, in persons who bore pain- 
ful stimuli on normal skin-areas with patience. One woman 
started and cried out on being touched with cold vessels 

1 Starr, Familiar Forms of Nervous Disease, pp. 173-175. 


which caused no unpleasant sensation to normal persons. 
Dr. Stern was, however, unable to discover a clear case of 
hyperalgesia to warmth. 

Both Dr. Stern and Dr. Skinner mention that ataxic 
patients are often very sensitive to cold. Thus Dr. Skinner 
mentions a patient who could not dress warmly enough for 
comfort, and who kept his room at a temperature of 90 F. 
(32 C.), yet still felt chilly all the time; and another who 
had felt continual chilliness for five years. These cases seem 
to differ only in degree from those of marked hyperalgesia. 
They are interesting as bridging the gulf between patholo- 
gical and normal sensitiveness to cold. 

I am indebted to Dr. Charles W. Burr of Philadelphia for 
directing my attention to a second symptom of nervous dis- 
ease which, while the converse of the former, seems like it 
to show that tactile pains are distinct from temperature 
pains. In certain cases of syringo-myelia, the patient's foot 
is normally sensitive to pricking and pinching, but totally 
analgesic to temperature stimuli such as ice or a hot iron. 

Here, then, we have facts which seem to show that the 
paths of temperature pains are distinct from those of pains due 
to pricking and cutting ; and even that the paths of heat pains 
are distinct from those of cpld pains. They likewise seem 
to show that temperature pains are more closely bound up 
with normal sensations of temperature than would be the 
case if pain impulses were conducted by a special set of 
fibres. But how can this be reconciled with the apparent 
teaching of the partial anaesthesias ? 

Possibly it might be by the assumption that these ataxic 
temperature pains are a pathological exaggeration of the 
mild and harmless affective coloring which the aspect theor- 
ist supposes to attend the functioning of the temperature 
sense alone. But when we consider that this would oblige 
us to explain the pains of the ataxic by one sense of fibres, 
and those of the normal person when the test-tube is heated 
a few degrees hotter by another set, the explanation appears 
somewhat forced and unnatural. We are moved to return to 
the partial anaesthesias and attempt a physiological explana- 

338 C. A. STRONG. 

tion of them, by assuming that tactile and temperature fibres 
are each capable of carrying two kinds of impulses, ordinary 
impulses and pain impulses, and that either of these capacities 
may be lost as a result of disease. But this explanation is 
promptly negatived by the experiments (if we may trust 
them) of Schiff, which appear to prove that moderate impul- 
ses pass upward through the white matter of the cord and 
excessive impulses through the gray matter. 

An hypothesis in regard to analgesia, which promises to 
help us out of our difficulties, was published by Wundt in 
the first edition of his Physiologische Psychologic, and has been 
repeated in subsequent editions. 1 Wundt assumes that in 
the peripheral nerves the paths of pain impulses are the same 
as those of touch, heat and cold impulses. He sees no 
reason for assuming a special pain sense, or a fourth sense 
of any kind. But he thinks that, when tactile or tempera- 
ture impulses reach the cord, they find two paths open a 
primary path, probably leading through the white matter, 
and a secondary path or paths, leading through the gray 
matter. Impulses of moderate intensity take the primary 
path, and this path can accommodate only moderate impulses. 
When excessive impulses come, they overflow into the secon- 
dary paths and pass upward thrpugh the gray matter. 

This hypothesis, which has the countenance of Funke 
and of Goldscheider, 2 will be found to explain most of the 
above-mentioned facts. Hypnotic analgesia, for instance, 
may be due to a temporary, hysterical analgesia to a more 
permanent, lowering of the excitability of the gray matter, 
the effect being to block the paths. Observe, first, that this 
hypothesis provides more or less distinct paths in the gray 
matter for tactile pains and for temperature pains. That 
these paths should be entirely distinct is not required by 
the facts; it would suffice if the two kinds of impulse 
entered the gray matter at different points or passed to 
different centres, which could undergo lesion separately. Ob- 
serve, secondly, that the hypothesis does not exclude the 

*3rd ed., Vol. I, pp. 115, 116; 4th ed., Vol. I, pp. in, 112. 
8 Ueber den Schmerz, p. ig. 


existence of a fourth cutaneous sense : although it invalidates 
the arguments for it drawn from the condition of analgesia. 
And, of course, if such a sense be assumed, it is no longer 
necessary to distinguish between its pain-giving capacity and 
that of the other cutaneous senses; since analgesia is now 
explained by the blocking of the excessive impulses which 
enter the gray matter, not by the abolition of this fourth 

Finally, it must be admitted that this hypothesis is not 
free from difficulties. It requires us to explain the action of 
cocaine and that of acetic and carbolic acid on the skin by a 
differential paralysis, now of the pain-carrying capacity of 
the nerve-fibre, and now of its touch-carrying capacity. 
The hypothesis also seems inconsistent with the fact that 
pain cannot be produced by stimulating the heat and cold 
spots; though, perhaps, it could be produced if enough of 
them were stimulated simultaneously. Finally, it ignores 
the consideration by which Foster seeks to establish an 
analogy between touch and the higher senses, though it is 
not inconsistent with the analgesic character of these senses 

But the question which chiefly concerns 'us is as to the 
bearing of all these neurological facts and theories on the 
psychology of pain. This may be summed up as follows: 

(1) The evidence seems on the whole to indicate that 
pain impulses are exaggerations of tactile, heat, and cold im- 
pulses, and are conducted inward by the same nerve-fibres; 
and this seems favorable to the aspect theory. 

(2) The analgesic condition seems to be one of indiffer- 
ence, so far as the remaining cutaneous sensations are con- 
cerned, and this seems hostile to the aspect theory. The 
affective cream seems to be taken cleanly off, leaving a mere 
skim-milk of cognition. But this, again, may be disputed, 
and it may be claimed that the currents which pass upward 
through the gray matter awaken a sensation with a strong 
feeling-tone, and that this is now lost; while those which 
pass upward through the white matter awaken a sensation 
with a weak feeling-tone, and that this still remains. 

It seems to me that with this claim we have reached the 

340 C. A. STRONG. 

limit of what can be learned from neurology. It is evident 
that the aspect theory does not stand or fall with the exist- 
ence or non-existence of special pain nerves or of special 
paths for pain in the spinal cord. 


Let us now turn to the introspective analysis of pain, and 
inquire whether the aspect theory gives a correct account of 
the subjective facts. This theory regards feeling-tone as an 
attribute of every sensation, and compares it to intensity. 
Is the comparison a just one ? And, in the first place, is 
feeling-tone a necessary attribute of every sensation ? A 
sensation is unthinkable without both quality and intensity 
it must be a definite kind of sensation, and there must be a 
definite amount of that kind. Is a sensation unthinkable 
without feeling-tone ? So far is this from being true, that a 
large proportion of our ordinary sensations are practically 
without it. No doubt most of these are attended with some 
minimal degree of feeling, but this is so slight as to be un- 

This state of things has been interpreted by the aspect 
theorists in two ways : 

(1) According to Wundt, these apparently feelingless 
sensations do not prove that feeling-tone is not a necessary 
property ; they have a feeling-tone, but their feeling-tone is 
zero; it is one of indifference. 1 This is as if one should say 
that every tactile sensation has some temperature quality, 
but that when the contact is neither hot nor cold the tem- 
perature quality is one of indifference. But temperatures 
neither hot nor cold are pure contacts ; and in the same way 
sensations neither pleasant nor unpleasant are not sensations 
with a feeling-tone of zero, but sensations without any feel- 
ing-tone at all. 

(2) Other aspect theorists admit this, but hold that there 
are no such feelingless sensations, that all sensations have 
at least a minimal feeling-tone. To this view I have nothing 
whatever to say ; nor do I see how it can be either substan- 

1 Physiologische Psychologic, 3rd ed., Vol. I, pp. 290, 508-9. 


tiated or overthrown by introspection. I will merely add 
two remarks: First, that the demand that all sensations 
should be accompanied by at least a minimum of pleasure or 
pain is a theoretical demand, based on the prior assumption 
that feeling-tone is a necessary attribute, analogous to qual- 
ity and intensity; secondly, that the recognition of a zero- 
point is equivalent to the admission that theoretically this 
attribute is not a necessary one. 

Let us now pass to the opposite end of the scale, and con- 
sider the case of sensations (to use the Wundtian termin- 
ology) with a maximal feeling-tone. The aspect theory 
holds that in physical pain we always have tactile, tempera- 
ture or other sensations present in painful phase,' ' with a 
coloring of pain.' Thus Lehmann says that "a feeling, 
whether of pleasure or of pain, never occurs apart from a 
sensation however weak, and in every case where such 
an isolated feeling is supposed to have been observed, the 
sensational element has merely been overlooked." 1 And 
Kiilpe, in his recent book, says: "The characteristic feature 
of pain is not the sensational quality, which is never absent, 
whether this be great heat, or strong pressure, or a scream- 
ing noise, or a blinding light, but the feeling of the disagree- 
able, of which pain is the highest degree." 2 Here we have 
the orthodox Wundtian doctrine. But elsewhere, after ob- 
serving that pain occurs almost solely in connection with 
common sensations, Kiilpe goes on to remark that the analy- 
sis of these "is rendered difficult by the fact that strong 
feelings cover up (yerdecken) sensational qualities they accom- 
pany"; 3 and in another passage he refers to "the well- 
known fact that pain usually overpowers (ubertdubf) the 
accompanying sensational qualities," and remarks that "if 
pressure, heat, or cold is intensified until it becomes painful, 
the impression is in all three cases of essentially the same 
kind." 4 With this we may compare the statement of E. H. 

1 Hauptgesetze des menschlichen Gefiihlslebens, p. 33. 
1 Grundriss der Psychologic, p. 93. 
* Ibid., p. 152. 
4 Ibid., p. 327. 

342 C. A. STRONG. 

Weber that "the pain produced by heat or cold is very 
different from the sensation of heat or cold. If the pain is 
not extreme, we feel at the same time the heat or cold which 
causes it, and can then distinguish pain due to heat from 
pain due to cold. But if it is extreme, the sensation is 
the same, whether caused by heat or cold." 1 Or, as Prof. 
James tersely expresses it, " heat, cold, and pressure are in- 
distinguishable when extreme we only feel the pain." 2 

If we attempt to render these familiar facts in Wundtian 
phraseology, we can do so only by saying that in extreme 
physical pain the feeling-tone has become so excessive as to 
overpower and cover up the quality and intensity of the sen- 
sation. We appear to have left a sensation with an intense 
feeling-tone, but without any quality or intensity. And yet 
these three are supposed to be necessary attributes of every 
sensation. I know Kiilpe insists that the sensational quality 
is never absent, but this directly contradicts his state- 
ment that it is overpowered by the pain, and that pain 
caused by pressure, heat, and cold have the same quality. 
Indeed, he is himself more or less conscious of the contra- 
diction, for he follows up the statement last referred to with 
the words : " Here we are of course conceiving pain not as 
feeling-tone, but as a peculiar quality of sensation." 3 And 
elsewhere he refers to the possibility that "we have to re- 
cognize in pain, apart from the displeasure ( Unlust) therein 
contained, a special class of sensation, called forth by the 
intense stimulation of every sensory nerve." 4 

Now this, it seems to me, is the only doctrine which ac- 
curately reflects the facts, and it is incompatible with the 
aspect theory, which classes feeling-tone with intensity. 
This classification is illegitimate, because at the bottom of 
the scale we have quality and intensity without any feeling- 
tone, or with next to no feeling-tone, while at the top of the 
scale we have feeling-tone in great intensity, but no quality. 

1 Tastsinn und Gemeingefiihl, p. 1 1 8. 

* Briefer Course, p. 68. 

* Grundriss der Psychologic, p. 327. 

* Ibid., p. 248. 


In other words, what the aspect theorist calls feeling-tone is 
in reality a kind of quality. As the quality of warmth becomes 
intense it becomes mixed with the quality of pain, and when the 
pain is extreme there is no warmth left. Only in the inter- 
mediate sensations is it possible to draw a distinction be- 
tween a cognitive and an affective side of the experience ; at 
one extreme all is cognition, at the other all is feeling. 
And throughout the scale there is an opposition between the 
two sides, such that one can predominate only at the expense 
of the other. Thus Sully tells us that "the affective and 
the cognitive element do not appear with equal prominence 
in our sensational and ideational experience " ; that in organic 
sensation and emotion the affective preponderates over the 
presentative, while in visual perception and ordinary thought 
the presentative preponderates over the affective. 1 Is such 
an opposition conceivable between the quality and the inten- 
sity of a sensation? Can the intensity of a sensation cover 
up and conceal the quality? No more than the breadth of a 
smile can conceal the face. The quality and the intensity 
are given with equal prominence, because they are only two 
different ways of classifying a single unique content. Indeed, 
so pregnant a fact is this opposition between cognition and 
feeling, that, if the extremes of indifference and pure pain 
were not to be met with in experience, this opposition would 
alone suffice to prove the incorrectness of the theory which 
classes feeling-tone with intensity. 

The aspect theorist may be said to make the same mis- 
take as a person who, viewing the series of colors between 
red and yellow, should describe the yellow apparently visi- 
ble in orange as a sort of tone, and the red visible in it as the 
sensational basis to which this tone was attached. The 
phrase hedonic coloring proves nothing, but it shows how 
well the facts would lend themselves to a sensational inter- 

To make my doctrine perfectly unambiguous, I must dis- 
tinguish between cases where the mingled qualities are due 
to different nerve-fibres, and cases where they are due to 

1 The Human Mind, Vol. II, pp. 10, n. 

344 C - A - STRONG. 

the same nerve-fibre. It is quite probable, even on our 
theory of the partial anaesthesias, that in the experience of 
a painful burn the pain is due to different nerve-fibres from 
the heat. For it is reasonable to suppose that the area of 
skin actually burnt is surrounded by a margin in which only 
heat impulses are produced. At the same time, it can hardly 
be doubted that in cases of moderate pain both the pain 
and the heat may be due to the same nerve-fibre. Let us 
suppose a fibre or a set of fibres to be stimulated with such 
intensity as to cause slight pain, yet not so intensely as to 
obscure the normal quality of heat. Now, to determine the 
relation between the heat and the pain in cases like this is, 
of course, the strict object of this paper. And I submit that 
this sensation of painful heat is to be conceived as a mixture 
of two co-ordinate qualities, heat and pain. When I say a 
mixture, I do not mean to imply a composite character in the 
sensation itself, any more than the taste of lemonade is com- 
posite. But, just as the taste of lemonade resembles that of 
lemon-juice on the one hand and that of sugar on the other, 
so the sensation of painful heat resembles the pure quality of 
heat on the one hand and the pure quality of pain on the 

My conclusion is, then, that pain is as distinctly the con- 
tent of certain cutaneous sensations as blue of certain vis- 
ual ones. It seems to me that Bain is right in classing 
hunger, thirst, nausea, fatigue, and pain with sensations; 1 
that Delbceuf is right when he says that " fatigue and sensa- 
tion are phenomena of the same nature and comparable to each 
other" 2 ; that Miinsterberg is right when he says that " sen- 
sible pleasure and pain are not extreme degrees of the agree- 
able and the disagreeable, but sensations, which regularly 
call forth strong feelings of the agreeable and the disagree- 
able" 3 ; and that Dr. Nichols is right in so far as he places 
physical pleasure and pain "on a common footing with our 
other senses as fundamental elements of mind." 4 

1 The Senses and the Intellect, pp. 102, 103. 

* Jile'mjnts de Psychophysique, p. 46. 
8 Beitrage, Heft IV, pp. 216, 217. 

* Philosophical Review, Vol. I, p. 404. 


Or my conclusion may be briefly expressed in the follow- 
ing form. If a new-born babe were subjected through all 
its senses to stimulations of excessive intensity for the space 
of an hour, the sole content of its consciousness during that 
time would be the feeling of pain, nor would this feeling have 
any connection with or reference to cognitive states what- 


In conclusion I will reply to an objection and indicate two 

I am sure some of my hearers will be inclined to admit 
that pain is an independent mental content, not necessarily 
attached to any other element of consciousness, but yet will 
deny that it is on that account to be classified with sensations. 
They will say that in this classification an important char- 
acter of pain has been overlooked, one which differentiates 
it totally from the states we call sensations. Sensations, 
that is to say, are projected outside the body and elaborated 
into perceptions of objects, of which they then appear as the 
qualities; whereas pain is not thus projected or elaborated, 
but remains throughout a purely subjective state. 

It is perfectly true that pain is a subjective state in this 
sense. But be it observed that such elaboration into objects 
is a subsequent operation, performed upon the sensation as 
it were from without, and not necessarily implying an essen- 
tial difference between it and the feeling of pain simply as 
mental elements, apart from their differing fate in this re- 
spect. The considerations already brought forward suffice 
to prove that originally and in themselves feelings of pain 
and ordinary sensations are of the same nature. For both 
are called forth by nerve-currents from without; and both 
are substantive mental contents, capable of existing in con- 
sciousness alone, though commonly present together. The 
only difference between them is that sensations are found in 
experience to vary with their stimuli, and therefore to fur- 
nish information about the stimuli, whereas feelings of pain 
do not so vary, and therefore tell us only of ourselves. 
Bradley puts the matter clearly and forcibly when he says: 

346 C. A. STRONG. 

"Like sensations they [pleasure and pain], are at first 
neither objective nor subjective. . . . That pleasure or 
pain, as they come first, have, in any sense whatever, a refer- 
ence to the Ego is a fundamental error. It takes the pro- 
ducts of development and places them at the starting-point, 
where no Ego . . . exists except in false theory." 1 And I 
could match this passage with another from Prof. Wundt. 2 
The same point may also be stated in the following way. 
Feelings of temperature are sometimes due, not to external 
objects, nor even to the contact of the surrounding air, but 
to the state of the circulation, to the increased or diminished 
development of animal heat. If they were always due to 
this cause, if they varied as little with the stimulus and as 
much with the organ as do feelings of pain, we should ac- 
count heat and cold no less subjective than we now account 

I pass to the two consequences. 

(1) It is often said that pleasure and pain are not localized, 
but that what is localized is the sensations they accompany. 3 
But we have seen that often there are no such accompanying 
sensations, and yet we know that the pain is localized. 
When I burn my finger, it is not merely the heat sensation 
that is localized there, it is the pain as well. A person 
whose hand is stimulated behind a screen may not be able to 
distinguish the pain of a burn from that of a cut, but he feels 
the pain in his hand. 

(2) It is often said that we cannot have images of pleas- 
ure or pain, or that, if we do imagine them, we actually be- 
gin to feel these states anew. 4 It seems to me that, so far 
as this statement is true, it applies to other images as much 
as to images of pain. The theory that images have a per- 
manent identity and recur, instead of being re-created, may 
be said to have received its deathblow. If images of pain 
are faint and unreal, the same is the case with images of 
taste and smell. I will not assert with Hume that images 

1 Mind, No. XLIX, p. 2. 

2 Vorlesungen ilber Menschen und Thierseele, 2nd ed., p. 226 infra. 
8 Sully, The Human Mind, Vol. II, p. 7 infra. 

* Marshall, Pain, Pleasure and ^Esthetics, pp. 29, 30. 


are merely weakened sensations ; but I do assert that what- 
ever is true of images generally is true of images of pain. 

Finally, let me repeat that my criticisms are directed, not 
against the aspect theory as a theory of displeasure, but 
against the aspect theorists' analysis of physical pain. I 
hold that physical pain is not a compound of an indifferent 
sensation with a feeling of displeasure, but itself a sensation 
which calls forth displeasure. 



University of Pennsylvania. 

That processes analogous to those that normally accom- 
pany consciousness do at least sometimes take place in con- 
nection with a human brain, without being represented in 
the consciousness properly belonging to that brain, is now 
generally admitted ; but the full import of the admission to 
psychology is not clearly understood. In the first place, it 
is not certain whether these processes are accompanied by 
consciousness or not. If not, we must suppose that the cor- 
tical process, as such, is not alone sufficient to produce a 
mental state, but needs the cooperation of some other factor. 
This hypothesis bears too much resemblance to the old soul 
theory to meet with favor in contemporary psychology, and 
we find that most writers claim that these dissociated pro- 
cesses are accompanied by true conscious states, which are 
related to the complex of similar states that constitutes the 
personal consciousness of the individual much as the con- 
sciousness of some other person is related to it. Further- 
more, it is supposed that these 'parasitic states' are subject 
to precisely the same laws as those that govern the ordinary 
' upper consciousness ' of the individual in question. They 
may develop, take to themselves associative helpmeets, and 
finally form a subconscious dream, which may persist for a 
considerable time and produce sundry disagreeable phe- 
nomena in the consciousness of its involuntary host. In 
extreme cases the mental parasite may become so complex 
and highly organized as to constitute a true ' secondary per- 
sonality' in all respects analogous to the original or upper 
personality ; and it may at times displace the upper person- 

1 Read at the Princeton meeting of the American Psychological Association. 


ality and assume temporary control of the motor system, 
thus becoming manifest to other persons. Pierre Janet, who 
has developed this doctrine more consistently than any one 
else with whom I am acquainted, regards such parasitic idea 
systems as essentially pathological phenomena. But a some- 
what analogous conception is being developed among those 
interested in ' psychical research,' according to which all 
thoughts, memories, hopes and fears which have been dis- 
missed from the upper consciousness still exist in conscious 
form, and even organized into a self-conscious being in what 
is termed 'the subliminal self,' and some think that the 
' subliminal self ' is sensitive to influences which are lost 
upon the normal consciousness. 

Among the phenomena frequently ascribed to such sub- 
conscious automatism are the ' phantasms of the glass* and 
automatic or spirit' writing-phenomena of which the 'pro- 
fessional psychologist' usually knows less than he should. 
Indeed, so far as I know, no professional psychologist has 
made any study of the phantasm of the glass from the purely 
psychological point of view, and but little has been done 
with automatic writing. I have been conducting some rather 
desultory experiments in these lines for the past two years, 
and, although the results are not sufficiently exact for pur- 
poses of computation, they have raised in my mind no little 
doubt as to their supposedly subconscious origin. 

Let us first examine the phantasm of the glass. It has 
been known since the dawn of history and no one can say 
how long before that certain individuals, while looking into 
a transparent or reflecting medium, see therein hallucinatory 
scenes and figures which were supposed to emanate from the 
unseen world of spirit. From the Urim and Thummim of the 
Jewish highpriest to the 'Crystal' of Dr. Dee, we find this 
belief among all ages and peoples. Within the last few 
years the Society for Psychical Research has undertaken to 
look into this ancient superstition and see whether it be 
based upon any residuum of fact. 

Those who believe in the existence of conscious states 
dissociated from the normal upper consciousness of the indi- 
vidual, are inclined to regard the phantasm of the glass as 

350 W. R. NEWBOLD, 

the product of subconscious automatism, brought by the 
transparent medium within the ken of the upper conscious- 
ness ; and it cannot be denied that many cases are on record 
which would seem to point to some such origin. But in my 
own series of experiments I found no reason to make this 
assumption. I commonly used in my experiments a glass 
ball made for the purpose, but I found that a glass of water 
or a small mirror reflecting a white surface answered the 
purpose quite as well. Such a medium gives the patient a 
vision of unfilled space, and its function appears to be simply 
that of an irritant to the highly organized visual mechan- 
ism. This seems borne out by the fact that the phantasm is 
more likely to appear when the medium is well illuminated. 
Usually some interval elapses before any effect is produced. 
In a few cases the phantasm was seen upon the first glance 
into the medium ; more commonly one must wait from five 
seconds to five minutes. In one case the image appeared 
after the lapse of twenty minutes. The first symptoms of a 
response on the part of the central visual mechanism to the 
exciting stimulus are frequently found in the appearance of 
visual sensations of a rather indeterminate character. The 
medium becomes opaque, being apparently filled with smoky 
or milky masses ; sometimes small masses of white, like 
minute clouds, drift rapidly through it. At other times 
these prodromal phenomena take the form of flushes of color 
red, blue or yellow. More seldom yet, the medium seems 
to become more brilliantly illuminated just before the phan- 
tasm emerges. The phantasm sometimes appears suddenly, 
but more often is slowly developed out of some of the sense 
material already present. The cloud-masses take definite 
shape and then become colored, or the vague blur or spot 
becomes a nucleus upon which the image develops. One 
of my subjects, a young girl who visualized well, described 
it in naive fashion: "You see," said she, "the gray spot 
seems to sink down to the bottom of the glass and turns 
and whirls about slowly ; then, of course, it has to be- 
come something." "But," said I, who do not visualize 
at all, "why must it become something?" "Well," she 
said, "of course it could not possibly stay a spot; it has to 


become something clear or else go out." When there are 
no indeterminate prodromal phenomena the phantasm some- 
times develops out of the reflections on the surface of the 
glass, but more commonly the reflections interfere with its 
development, as do all other sensory distractions. 

In the case of good * seers,' the prodromal phenomena 
appear within five or ten seconds, and the image is fully de- 
veloped within a minute or two. It is usually brilliantly 
colored and resembles a minute picture. Sometimes it is 
indistinct, sometimes the outline is distinct but lacks color- 
ing. Occasionally the picture is perfectly clear and bril- 
liantly colored, but is imperfect. One of my subjects, for 
example, saw a portion of the full-page cartoon in a recent 
number of Puck, representing the American school system in 
the clutches of the Popish tiger. The head, forequarters 
and forepaws of the tiger and a part of his victim were per- 
fectly clear, but the hindquarters were altogether lacking. 
This patient was a good visualizer, and I asked him to exter- 
nalize the remainder of the picture and unite it to the image 
in the glass, but he could not. He said the phantasm had a 
vividness and externality which images voluntarily external- 
ized never attained. The duration of the image varies, but 
seems to bear some relation to the length of time it took to 
produce it. Generally it lasts but a few seconds, but I have 
seen cases in which it lasted several minutes. 

The images are often drawn from the subject's recent 
visual experience but are often unrecognized. Many of the 
latter are purely imaginary, but some are doubtless forgot- 
ten memories. In one case I found that I could revive 
memory by hypnotizing the patient and asking him to re- 
member. Once he saw in the glass the face of a young girl 
which he described in detail. He had never seen her before, 
he said. Next came a little dog, which he remembered hav- 
ing seen that day in a country postoffice ; it came in with its 
mistress. He could not describe the mistress he had not 
seen her face clearly but was quite sure she was not the 
woman he had seen in the glass ; she was much older. 
When hypnotized and told to describe the dog's mistress, he 
described the face he had just seen, and remembered that he 

352 W. R. NEWS OLD. 

had caught a glimpse of her face as she passed him. At an- 
other time he saw a bust of some white material, but it had 
no pedestal or other surroundings, and he could not remem- 
ber where he had seen it. When hypnotized he described 
the pedestal, the stuccoed wall behind it, the wooden floor 
upon which the pedestal stood, and himself standing before 
it; but further than this the picture would not develop. 

Often the successive images seem to have no relation to 
one another. When they are related, however, it is nearly 
always by the law of similarity, seldom, as in the case above 
quoted, by contiguity. Sometimes it seems as if certain 
elements in an image persisted and formed the nucleus upon 
which the new image took shape, thus making it seem as if 
the images melted into one another. This bears heavily 
against those who claim that similarity is an ultimate law, 
and is analogous to the case reported by Mr. Galton in his 
Inquiries into Human Faculty. 

The relation of the phantasm to simultaneous sensory 
states also goes to show that it is a temporary creation and 
is not the product of independent subconscious processes. 
Usually it is most intimately related to the sensations which 
collectively constitute the medium. The least movement of 
the medium tends to destroy it. The introduction of any 
visual sensations other than those proceeding from the me- 
dium usually destroys it. Magnifying the medium usually 
destroys it. Upon closing the eyes it is usually not seen; 
when the eyes are again opened it either has disappeared or 
is more or less faded. Such phenomena go to show that the 
phantasm is a mere illusion, constructed upon the sensory 
basis furnished by the medium. Sometimes, however, it 
seems to attain a degree of independence which would lend 
color to the notion that it has been subconsciously origin- 
ated. I have sometimes found that, when once fully devel- 
oped, it persisted when the eyes were closed, and even after 
the removal of the medium. With one subject it proved so 
durable that he was able to project it upon a sheet of white 
paper and trace its outlines. But voluntarily externalized 
images and after-images sometimes prove as permanent, and 
no one will claim for them a subconscious origin. 


Like most hallucinations, the phantasm of the glass is 
quite independent of the idea-trains of the upper conscious- 
ness. Suggestion in the waking state seldom affects it, 
although it is readily amenable to hypnotic suggestion. In 
one case only have I found it capable of being affected by 
voluntary effort. One of my patients told me that while 
experimenting at home alone he heard the whistle of a loco- 
motive. He forthwith fell to wishing that the locomotive 
would appear in the glass, and in a few moments it did. 
The smokestack, upper part of the boiler and a part of the 
tender appeared, but the picture remained incomplete, and 
by no amount of wishing could he force it to develop further. 

Mr. F. W. H. Myers has called attention to the very 
interesting fact that if a story be related to a hypnotized 
patient, and it be suggested that he will see it in the glass, it 
will appear and be acted out in dramatic form. Many of my 
readers will remember that Mr. Myers gave illustrations of 
this before the International Congress in London three 
years ago. It occurred to me that it would be interesting 
to show that the glass would bring such a tale to light with- 
out any direct suggestion, and I tried to do it with a patient 
named Tom. He is a very ignorant man, but a good hyp- 
notic subject. The experiment gave only negative results. 
He looked steadily for some time and saw nothing. I then 
asked, 'Don't you see so and so?' mentioning the first 
item of the scene he was to see. This slight suggestion 
proved sufficient and he saw the whole story acted out. I 
then hypnotized him again and said, " Tom, do you remem- 
ber the old Greek story how the giants piled one moun- 
tain on another and climbed up to heaven to pull the old god 
down from his throne?" Tom did not remember. I then 
bade him look in the glass, and he began to describe the 
event as he saw it, while I took his words down. He spoke 
slowly, with frequent pauses, and often moved his head or 
the medium about as if to get a better view. " It seems like 
there were some men in there big giants or something 
not very plain what they are they've got little crowns on, 
olden style got on long night-shirts, not very long, sort of 
cut short, you know, sort of lightish color there are four 

354 W. R. NEWBOLD. 

of them they're moving piling stuff up can't tell what it 
is; guess it's rocks or stuff whole lot of rocks; they're pil- 
ing it up in the air keep building and building up higher 
like guess they're trying to reach as high as they can get. 
Pretty near as high as they can go now they've got weap- 
ons with them, spears and such. Guess they're building a 
mountain on a mountain away up now in the clouds. 
There's somebody else up there some other man, I guess 
looks as if they'd got hold of him and were pulling him off a 
throne or something. That's all I can see now." (I ask 
what the old man looks like,) " Dressed like wearing a pair 
of short pants with tights around his loins breastplates on 
him, looks if he were a king or something. Don't see the fel- 
low they pulled off they are still there and have spears and 
weapons. Now they're gone too pile of rocks is still there 
now it's going too it's all gone. Glass is clear." While 
telling this story the patient seemed to be in a hypnotic con- 
dition, as he commonly is while performing a posthypnotic 
suggestion, but was not suggestible after finishing, nor did 
he fall asleep as usual. If we could show that the glass 
tends to externalize suggestions given in hypnosis, it would 
go to show that there is some organic relation between the 
realms of consciousness laid bare in hypnosis and those 
reached by the glass. But at present I see no reason for 
assuming that there are any such realms existing perma- 
nently and subconsciously in all individuals. It is more con- 
gruent with the facts to suppose that we are dealing with 
more or less dissociated mental elements, between which 
there may be relation whatever, unless we ' set the switches ' 
by suggestion and thus create one. 

One would suppose, from a priori considerations, that 
the good visualizer would be more likely to see these images 
than others, and, so far as my facts go, this would seem to 
be the case. I tried 86 persons and got phantasms in 22 
cases. Twenty of the 22 were young girls, and all were 
good visuaiizers. It would then appear that young girls 
who visualize well are the best < seers.' But, on the other 
hand, 46 of my 86 patients were young girls under 22 years 
of age, pupils in a school where I was lecturing ; and of the 


remaining 40 not a half-dozen were above 30. Moreover, 
having early found an apparent relation between visualizing 
and crystal-vision,' I took pains to experiment with all the 
good visualizers I could find. Upon such selected material 
one can base no generalizations. 

Before turning to other types of automatism, I will quote 
from my note-book two typical series of phantasms. 

Miss E., age 20, well educated girl of a quiet and retir- 
ing disposition. Good visualizer. Has had visual hallu- 
cinations while in apparently good health. Begins looking 
in the glass at 9.13 A. M. [Figures indicate interval between 
entries.] In two minutes 50", glass grows smoky ; 2' 40", 
the smoke is forming into something; cannot make out what 
it is; 30", the thing is moving around but does not settle 
into anything; i' 30", it has become a little brownie, peaked 
cap and usual costume; is running; the legs move but the 
figure does not move from its place in the glass; 45", it is 
gone; glass is still cloudy; 15", looks very like the Coli- 
seum ; 20", it is the Coliseum, but there is a little door below 
which she never noticed before; 10", something else is com- 
ing; "What can it be?" she says; 'it looks like an animal 
and also like a human being;' 30", it is a little old man with 
a great red nose. The Coliseum is still partly visible ; the 
old man has long nose, sharp eyes, thin neck ; 40", the old 
man has disappeared, the glass is still smoky, the Coliseum 
still dimly visible in outline. What now, an alligator? No, 
not that; 10", the old man back again; he looks younger 
now, but it is the same man ; 30", seems to be winking, his 
brows seem to go up and down ; 15", he seems to be turning 
around and looking the other way; 10", he is gone; 5", 
there he is again; 15", he is still looking the other way. 
She has never seen him ; 30", he simply won't go away, she 
says; 10", now he looks quite different, his nose is smaller 
and thinner, he has a helmet on his head, a determined look- 
ing man; looks like an ancient Roman; i' 20", he is still 
there; 10", I told her to shut her eyes; kept them closed 
five seconds; she saw nothing while they were closed, but 
the image was unchanged when she opened them again ; 10", 
he is gone at last; 35", " There he comes again," said she; 

356 W. R. NEWBOLD. 

" Oh, dear, dear, I wish he would go away;" 20", he has 
turned into a bear; 10", and now the bear has turned into a 
monkey; 10", the image has entirely gone. All these ima- 
ges, she says, had the same eyes. Thirty seconds, "That 
dreadful looking man is coming back again"; 30", no, it is 
another man, white robe, very large, smiling, costume like a 
monk's, not a Roman's; 30", the head has faded out, the 
figure still there ; when she moves her head it also seems to 
move. I put a black fountain pen between her eye and the 
object; it had no effect; i', all is gone except the milky or 
cloudy effect; 25", a beautiful streak of blue appears; 10'', it 
is passing into a yellow; 10", the colors are gone; 3", now 
the color of heliotrope comes; 8", it is becoming a rainbow, 
over the beauty of which she becomes enthusiastic; 24", a 
window appears, a window-sill seat, interior view of a room, 
bookcases all around; 50", it is gone; 20", < Oh, what is 
that trying to do?' 15", 'I can't see what it is; the cloud 
moves into different shapes;' 45", three dice appear; she 
sees the three and the five; cannot see the others. Stopped. 
Entire time, 23 minutes; no perceptible after-effect. Upon 
questioning her as to the source of the images, she- said that 
she had been in Rome once, when about twelve years old. 
Had not been recently thinking or reading about kindred 
subjects. The old man, she thought, looked like one of 
Dickens' characters, but could not specify which one. 

The only other case which I shall quote is that of Miss 
L., 1 8 years of age, an excitable girl, somewhat subject to 
slight hysterical attacks. Was in good health. 

In three minutes 30" sees a field, blue grass, stretching 
away off; gets pink by the horizon; there is a cloud on 
the grass, the cloud is getting pink; a face is coming out 
of the cloud; i' 25", sees a figure to the face, gauzy 
drapery, pinkish near the cloud; cloud and drapery are 
the same; 35", sky is blue; something or other is shin- 
ing on the figure; cannot tell whether it is the sun or 
the moon; the hair of the figure is a bluish red, beautiful 
color; 30", "The clouds are rolling, and the beautiful wo- 
man seems to be rolling on too ; she is holding something 
which looks like two strings ; " 7", she thinks it is developing 


into Guide's Aurora; 23", sees one of the horses; there is 
only harness where the other horse should be; sees box of 
chariot but no wheels; i', there is something there which 
she thinks is a Cupid's head, but cannot see it clearly; 25", 
the other horse is visible ; the picture is complete except the 
Graces ; ' they are not there ; the sun seems to be moving 
along; 50", two or three Cupids appear; they are sitting on 
the chariot and elsewhere; 45", the unfinished picture is 
turning very red, it is becoming a high brick wall; the 
luminous body, whether sun or moon, is still there, but the 
rest is gone except the wall; 20", there seems to be a win- 
dow in the wall; a beautiful girl is looking out; she has the 
same head and face that 'Aurora,' i. e., Apollo, had; her 
hair is growing longer and longer; i' 5", there seems to be 
a figure on the ground, it is a greyish-blue ; 20", seems to 
be playing on harp ; sees only the head, arms and harp ; the 
rest is cloudy; 25", the clouds are becoming drapery; 10", 
there are hills around and the sun is coming over the hills; 
28", the instrument seems to be something between a violin 
and a harp; 12", the man has a red suit, a sixteenth century 
cape at back ; 40", half the field seems to be covered with 
her hair, which grows and grows ; the man is wound up in 
it; 20", the wall is gone; there seems to be only a sea of 
hair or water; 20", the sun is still rising, it has been there 
all the time (probably a reflection) ; 40", the hair is blue ; it 
looks like the ocean ; 30", there seems to be something on 
the water; it looks like a shell; 30", there seems to be a 
yellow head and a crown on the shell, eyes closed, the 
mouth opens; 45", the hair comes again; it is red, short, 
crimped; the tongue sticks out; it is two yards long; 45", 
there is a shore tp the right; the tongue reaches to the 
shore, like a suspension bridge; the head slides along the 
tongue to the shore; 45", the patient inadvertently took her 
eyes from the glass, and upon looking back the phantasm 
was entirely gone. 

That auditory hallucinations in every way analogous to 
the phantasm of the glass may be produced by the applica- 
tion of a continuous but indeterminate stimulus to the organ 
is, of course, a familiar fact. Not long ago, for example, a 

358 W. R. NEWBOLD. 

paranoiac was treated in the University Hospital who com- 
plained of a continuous hissing sound, which from time to 
time was transformed into abusive language. The noise 
was found to be due to a chronic inflammation of the inner 
ear this had served as the sensory basis for the hallucination. 
A young woman, who has had several auditory hallucinations 
occurring apparently spontaneously, tells me that the sound 
of water running from a spigot always induces auditory hal- 
lucinations of precisely the same character as those above 
described in the case of vision, and they are often accom- 
panied by appropriate visual pictures of the pseudo-hallu- 
cinatory order. Mr. Myers reports similar hallucinations 
produced by listening to the 'sound of the waves' in a large 

It is, however, in the phenomena of automatic writing 
that the most interesting illustrations of these principles are 
to be found. Automatic script is usually regarded as afford- 
ing evidence of the existence of preformed, subconscious 
idea-systems which thus seek expression, and for a long time 
this was my own view. But I am now convinced that in 
many cases the writing is produced precisely as these sen- 
sory processes are produced by the continuous application 
of an indeterminate stimulus to the highly organized writ- 
ing mechanism. It is, then, essentially a purely motor phe- 

I was first led to this view by the study of a remarkably 
interesting case which was brought to my attention about a 
year ago. The patient, whom I shall call A. B., was an 
educated man, who had some knowledge of psychology and 
was acquainted with the conception of mental automatism. 
He was sitting one evening around a table with some friends, 
one of whom was supposed to be ' mediumistic,' to see 
whether rappings and levitation of the table could be had. 
Suddenly his left arm was drawn violently down ; in a few 
moments the motor disturbance was transferred to the right 
arm. Pencil and paper were procured and the hand made 
desperate efforts to write. Much violence was displayed, 
the hand being pounded upon the table so furiously as to 
bruise the fingers and snap pencil after pencil. Nothing 


legible was written. The case was brought to my notice in 
its early stages, and I had the opportunity of watching its 
later development. The violence at first displayed gradually 
disappeared. The hand learned to print and then to write a 
legible script, much resembling that of the patient. The 
content of the writing always professed to come from the 
patient's deceased friends a claim which was readily dis- 
proved to the complete satisfaction of the patient himself. 
To him the hand seemed to be moved by some power not 
his own, yet he could at any time control it. The thoughts 
bore a marked resemblance to his own, but were not con- 
sciously furnished by him. He said it seemed to him as if 
he were watching another person write ; often he would cor- 
rectly anticipate the words to follow, but quite as often they 
would prove other than he had expected. At first B. him- 
self believed that his dabbling in spiritism had started into 
activity a mass of subconscious idea-trains which had suc- 
ceeded at the seance in bursting out into the motor mechan- 
ism. He was naturally not a little alarmed, and the further 
progress of his case did not tend to reassure him. The con- 
tracture of the right arm which always preceded the writing 
became easier to produce, and finally showed a tendency to 
appear spontaneously. At times he found it difficult to re- 
sist. Similar contractures appeared in the muscles of the 
left arm, of the legs, and finally of the face. By this time a 
general motor hysteria was produced. At the same time 
automatic sensory symptoms made their appearance in a 
manner that should delight the hearts of all who believe 
with Prof. Baldwin in the natural dependence of the sensory 
system upon the motor. Automatic idea-trains held con- 
verse with the patient at all times, seasonable and unseason- 
able ; flashes of brilliant white light were occasionally seen 
while falling asleep, and the motor excitement rose to such 
a point that the patient escaped a hystero-epileptic convul- 
sion only by two hours of strenuous resistance, followed by a 
timely dose of assafcetida. Throughout the patient believed 
himself to be struggling, like the possessed of old, with a 
secondary personality which was striving to overmaster his 
upper self. 

360 W. R. NEW BOLD. 

This interpretation of the facts I believe to be entirely 
erroneous. They can be explained in a much more simple 
fashion. The original invasion might well have been a fatigue 
convulsion, due to the fact that the patient had for a long time 
held his hands outstretched upon the table. I have fre- 
quently seen contractures and convulsions produced, under 
such circumstances, although not as violent as those of the 
patient are said to have been. The continuous but inde- 
terminate stimulus applied to the centres probably the sub- 
cortical centres of reinforcement and coordination produce 
in time a reflex response. The neurologist who does it in 
order to study the phenomena gets purposeless contractions. 
The spiritist does it with the notion that the table is to 
shortly move under his hands, and the cortical processes 
which correspond to this expectation discharge downwards 
through the Rolandic region and impose upon the automati- 
cally produced contractions a semi-purposive character, pro- 
ducing lateral movements of the hands, which serve to move 
the table. I have seen this in more cases than one, and have 
proved to the satisfaction of the medium ' that the move- 
ments of the table were due solely to the automatic contrac- 
tions of his own arms. In the case of B., who had recently 
seen what purported to be spirit-writing, and had been much 
impressed thereby, the suggestion supplied by the cortical 
centres took a slightly different form and determined the 
otherwise meaningless movements to assume the form of 
writing. At first the patient allowed himself no expecta- 
tion as to the content of the writing. But as he watched it 
scrawling away he naturally fell to wondering whether this 
was meant for such and such a word and that for another; 
he would ask whether it were, and then the word would be 
plainly written. Evidently, say I, in response to the sug- 
gestion given by him. As soon as he became accustomed to 
the thought that he might * anticipate ' the words his hand 
wrote, the process of genesis became easy. And it was 
made easier by a further suggestion which he gave himself. 
He asked the alleged spirit once when I was present by 
what means he communicated, and how it was that he, the 
patient, seemed to anticipate the spirit's thoughts. To which 
the writer replied that he supplied the thoughts himself tele- 


pathically, it being the function of the medium ' to write 
them down only ! No wonder that the communications 
were thereafter much facilitated. 

It was a comparatively easy matter to prove the true 
origin of these utterances as soon as our attention was drawn 
to it. We found that the hand never wrote anything intel- 
ligible when B. resolutely refused to attend to the writing. 
It was not necessary to look at it, as the motor sensation 
was sufficient to serve as a guide to what was being written, 
but it was necessary that B. should thus 'anticipate' it. If 
he did not the hand would write scrawls. He found also 
that the hand responded readily to all manner of sugges- 
tions. He had but to think, * Why does it not try to 
print,' and forthwith it would print. He would ask the 
writer to bring a new spirit to write. It would flit through 
his mind that perhaps the new spirit would not be able to 
write. The new spirit would appear and write with labor 
and difficulty, or would print like a child. Then with prac- 
tice' these characteristics would disappear and the new- 
comer would write as well as any habitud of B.'s organism. 
If while the hand was writing the illegible scrawls that al- 
ways followed when B. did not help it out, he suggested, 
' Why do you not try printing?' it would try printing, and 
produce page after page of curious symbols resembling some 
unknown language. I have no doubt that the ' unknown 
languages ' often written by ' mediums ' have a similar ori- 
gin. On one occasion a 'new spirit' began writing a back- 
hand. He announced that he was born in 1629, the figures 
having an archaic look. B. knew something of archaic 
script, and it occurred to him that the spirit wrote a hand 
suspiciously modern for one who was born in 1629 and died 
in 1685. Within a few lines the style changed to a twisted, 
gnarled hand, which certainly resembles a specimen of sev- 
enteenth century script with which I compared it. B. says 
that at the time of writing he thought the automatic script 
was written more rapidly than he could write archaic script 
of that character, but upon trying he found he could write 
identically the same hand voluntarily quite as readily. 

Little by little the motor disturbance originally confined 
to the arm centres began, if my theory be correct, to involve 

362 W. R. NEWBOLD. 

other centres. It first invaded the left arm centre, in re- 
sponse to the patient's suggestion, and then the legs and 
jaws. The development of the symptoms of ideal and sen- 
sory automatism I cannot analyze in detail. They were due 
doubtless to a progressive central disorganization of some 
kind, but I know no reason for it. Yet that the disturbance 
was primarily motor is proved by the fact that three or four 
days complete rest, with anti-spasmodic treatment, proved 
sufficient to put an end to it. B. still retained his power of 
producing the writing a power which he rarely exercises, I 
believe but the spontaneous symptoms entirely disappeared. 
The teaching of such facts is plain. B. might well have 
become a classic case of < secondary personality ! ' He pre- 
sented many of the symptoms which are usually ascribed to 
subconscious idea trains, and I think I would myself, if he 
had not been an unusually good witness as to the subjective 
side of the phenomena, have put that construction upon 
them. As it is, this case, in conjunction with others of the 
same character, has thrown a flood of light upon the whole 
problem for me. I do not deny that mental states may exist 
subconsciously, and may be subconsciously 'integrated into 
complete dreams, and even into independent personalities. 
I would not wish to question, upon the strength of the four 
or five cases that I have studied, the conclusions of such 
careful investigators as Pierre Janet and Binet. Yet it is 
very difficult to correctly interpret the significance of these 
automatic phenomena in terms of consciousness when the 
patient is incapable of giving any clear account of their sub- 
jective feeling. We must remember that, while conscious- 
ness is revealed to us through the motor mechanism only, it 
does not necessarily follow that a given motor phenomenon 
always bears witness to the existence of the conscious state 
which it usually expresses. In these cases the significance 
of the motor phenomena was undoubtedly due to states in 
the upper consciousness, to which they at first glance seemed 
to bear no relation whatever, but it seems quite possible that 
apparently significant motor phenomena of a high degree of 
complexity may be produced by the subcortical mechanism 
without the cooperation of the cortex, and in all probabil- 
ity without any form of accompanying consciousness. 






In an article called 'A Study in Mental Statistics/ which 
appeared in the December, 1891, number of the New Review, 
Prof. Joseph Jastrow discusses, among other subjects, "The 
Community of Ideas and Thought-Habits of Men and 
Women." His data are fifty lists of one hundred discon- 
nected words, twenty-five from the men and twenty-five from 
the women of his Wisconsin University psychology class. 
His chief conclusions are "that women repeat one anoth- 
er's words more than men," and that " there is less variety 
among women than among men;" that the feminine traits 
revealed are "an attention to the immediate surroundings, 
to the finished product, to the ornamental, the individual, 
the concrete ; while the masculine preference is for the more 
remote, the constructive, the useful, the general, the 

For the purpose of testing these results the young women 
of the experimental psychology class at Wellesley College 
were asked to write out similar lists of one hundred discon- 
nected words. That the thought-process might be as free 
as possible, no restriction was made. The students were not 
even asked, as in the case of Dr. Jastrow's class, to write as 
rapidly as possible, but this difference in the method cannot 
possibly be supposed to account for the wide difference in re- 
sults. The subjects had no knowledge whatever of the pur- 
pose of the investigation. Twenty-five papers from those 
first completed were selected for the comparison ; all were 



rejected which were not declared by the writers to be the 
result of a natural flow of thought, and two were set aside 
because the words formed sentences. 

According to Dr. Jastrow's first generalization, women 
repeat one another's words more than men.' He finds that 
" female students in their 2,500 words used only 1,123 dif- 
ferent words, while their classmates used 1,375. Again with 
regard to classes, the women show different preferences from 
the men. The repetitions in the names of articles of apparel, 
of interior furnishings, predominate with women. Similarly 
the men have more repetitions in the names of animals, and 
mention more such names." The Wellesley lists tell a dif- 
ferent story. Only fifteen lists, that is 1,500 words, have 
been studied from this point of view, but among the 1,500 
are 1,103 different words, only 20 less than those among the 
2,500 of the Wisconsin University women, and only 272 less 
than those among the 2,500 of the Wisconsin University men. 

Further comparison is based upon Dr. Jastrow's division 
of his words into twenty-five classes. There may, of course, 
occur a deviation from Dr. Jastrow's principles of assign- 
ment of particular words to appropriate classes, but with 
reference to the classes which he especially emphasizes 
(words of wearing apparel, for instance, and abstract terms) 
there is no chance for difference of opinion. In the follow- 
ing tables of results Dr. Jastrow's order of frequency has 
been followed : 

Comparative table of frequency of mention : 

G *O G *o ju 

* * 1^ 

1. Animal kingdom, - - 254 178 223 

2. Wearing apparel and fabrics, - - 129 224 96 

3. Proper names, . - - 194 153 141 

4. Verbs, - - 197 134 114 

5. Implements and utensils, - 169 121 132 

6. Interior furnishings, 89 190 84 

7. Adjectives, - - 177 102 234 

8. Foods, - - - - - - 53 179 56 


9. Vegetable kingdom, - - 121 no 91 

10. Abstract terms, - - 131 97 280 

n. Buildings and building materials, - 105 117 106 

12. Parts of body, - 101 105 34 

13. Miscellaneous, - 91 99 162 

14. Geographical words, - 97 80 142 

15. Mineral kingdom, - 74 96 54 

16. Meteorological and astronomical, - 85 76 26 

17. Stationery, - 60 89 26 

1 8. Occupations and callings, 71 47 33 

19. Conveyances, . 62 52 79 

20. Educational, ----- 34 76 167 

21. Other parts of speech, - 96 5 41 

22. Arts, 33 61 44 

23. Amusements, ----- 30 53 102 

24. Mercantile terms, 30 29 15 

25. Kinship, ------ 117 32 18 

2500 2500 2500 

The differences between these Wisconsin and Wellesley 
women's lists are very striking. According to Dr. Jastrow's 
results, the class to which women contribute most largely is 
that of 'articles of dress.' Of every 11 words, i belongs to 
this class, and the women have 224 such words as i against 
129 on the men's list. Our records, on the other hand, 
swell the numbers of this class to only 96 words, giving it 
but i word in every 26. And if arranged in the Wellesley 
order of frequency this class would have been twelfth instead 
oi first. 

In the sixth class, again, our results differ widely from 
those of Dr. Jastrow. He writes: "The prevalence of 
words denoting the common articles of furniture and interior 
fittings of a house the peculiar field of woman's household 
instincts is quite as marked, such objects being mentioned 
190 times by women and 89 times by men." Our lists in- 
clude only 84 such words, suggesting, perhaps, a lack ot 
household instinct on the part of the Wellesley students, who 
appear less domestic than even the Wisconsin University 
men. In the class of 'foods' the disproportion of the Wis- 
consin record is even greater: the women mention words 


of this class 179 times and the men only 53 times. The 
Wellesley records include, however, only 56 words of this 

In reference to words referring to amusements, arts and 
educational matters, our statistics corroborate the statement 
of Dr. Jastrow, that, in these subjects women show an ex- 
cess over the men. "This," he observes, "points to a 
characteristic difference in the interests of the two sexes." 
The Wellesley students mention words referring to amuse- 
ments with suggestive frequency 102 times. 

" In the young men," Dr. Jastrow says, "we see marked 
preference for names of animals, of implements and utensils, 
the names of professions and similar relations." Up to this 
point our results agree, though the distinction which he 
notes is not in every case so marked. But the preponder- 
ance of abstract terms in the men's lists, which Dr. Jastrow 
accentuates strongly, vanishes utterly when these records 
are compared with those of the Wellesley students. Our 
lists contain 280 abstract terms, not only more than those 
(131) of Dr. Jastrow's men, but more than those (228) of all 
fifty of his students. In one paper alone occur fifty abstract 
words ; the writer was specially questioned, and insisted 
that the progress of the thought had been entirely natural. 
If this unusual record be omitted, there still remains a num- 
ber slightly greater than the Wisconsin total. It should be 
added that the Wellesley students earlier in the year had 
written several associated lists, involving almost necessarily 
the use of concrete terms, so that any artificial inclination to 
abstractness was unlikely. The prevalence both of abstract 
terms and of adjectives in the Wellesley lists is of question- 
able rhetorical import. 

The conclusions from this study are thus chiefly negative, 
but not for that reason unimportant. The figures are too 
few to allow any positive deductions, but their uncompro- 
mising contradiction of Dr. Jastrow's results gives a needed 
warning concerning the dangers of such comparative study 
of the mental processes of men and women. If the serious 
study of the supposed psychic differences between the sexes 
can lead to conclusions so opposite to each other, the worth- 


lessness of ordinary generalizations is made very clear 
based as they are on purely personal observation and, 
usually, on the comparison of men and women of entirely 
different training. 



An incidental corroboration of the ordinary opinion that 
paramnesia, in its various forms, is very common among 
normal people, was obtained in the course of some experi- 
ments on association 1 with the Wellesley subjects already 
mentioned, and with members of the Harvard Psychological 
Laboratory. A series of colors, each of them quickly fol- 
lowed by a numeral, was shown ; and afterwards the colors 
alone were exposed, in succession, with the request that 
whatever numeral occurred to the mind of the subject, at 
the appearance of each color, should be written down. The 
main object of the experiment was to discover the number of 
times in which that numeral which had appeared in the first 
series in close connection with a color, would now be asso- 
ciated with the same color appearing alone. The subject 
was also asked, however, immediately after writing down a 
numeral, to record by the use of the signs -f , and ?, his 
opinion of the correctness of the association. These opin- 
ions form the material of the following summary of cases of 
a form of paramnesia, which may be called False Recognition. 

Regarding first the totals, it will be observed that almost 
half (47%) of our entire number of recorded opinions are in- 
stances of paramnesia. The first vertical column of the 
table contains, as will be observed, the number of cases of 
what may be called negative paramnesia, not the persuasion 
that a mere object of imagination is a memory image, but 
the failure to recognize an actual reproduction. This dis- 
tinction may best be studied by reference to the analysis of 
the phenomena of memory into two factors (objective and 
subjective), namely, recurrence or reproduction, and recog- 




nition. These cases of 'negative paramnesia,' in which the 
correct numeral is judged to be wrong, involve actual recur- 
rence, unaccompanied, however, by recognition ; the instan- 
stances in which the incorrect numeral is judged to be 
correct involve a failure of reproduction, as well as a lack of 
recognition. The fact that this latter class of pseudo-remin- 
iscence contains 323 cases, or three times as many as the 
class of negative paramnesia, indicate that these factors, re- 
currence and recognition, strengthen each other or fail 


The numeral written actually is : 




Half correct. 

Correct recogni- 

372 (76.64 J&) 1 



jj/ (52.98$) 

False recognition 
(paramnesia) : 

Numeral, judged 
correct, .... 




Numeral, judged 





Numeral, judged 
doubtful, . . . 





Total paramnesia, 
Total cases . 

//I (33.45$) 


52 (40.94$) 

48g (47-01$) 





1 The per cents are calculated on the totals at the foot of the vertical columns. 


Princeton University. 

The important function which is attributed to attention 
in the processes of sense-perception is very strikingly illus- 
trated in an interesting instance which has recently been 
brought to my notice, and which throws into sharp relief 
the phenomena of attention operating in an intensified man- 
ner, and consequently modifying sensation to an extreme 
extent. It very often happens that normal tendencies are 
most clearly exhibited in unusual or abnormal cases, because 
there then occurs an inhibition of counter or complimentary 
tendencies, thus presenting to the observer the unique opera- 
tion of an undisturbed and unmodified function. Instead of 
the resultant of many, there is the sole functioning of the 
one element separated from its usual concomitants. A force 
thus revealed in isolation is more readily appreciated when- 
ever seen conjoined with accompanying forces in any system 
however complex. 

The instance I wish to present seems to me to be of this 
nature, a case where the normal functioning of the attention 
is intensified in a very unusual degree. It is the case of a 
child about eight years old, a little girl, who as a baby was 
supposed to be congenitally deaf, as she gave no evidence of 
hearing any sounds whatsoever. Somewhat later in her devel- 
opment, however, it was noticed that at certain times she 
seemed to hear, and this always in connection with some 
objects of special interest, as bright pictures, toys, etc. 
And this now characterizes her general ability to hear: 
whenever the subject is one especially interesting to her, 
she hears without great difficulty; but whenever there is no 
interest in conversation, it is with greatest difficulty that she 
can be made to hear at all ; and it is impossible to gain her 



attention by any sounds, however loud, if she is engrossed 
in any absorbing task or play. Connected with this natu- 
rally there was an extremely tardy beginning of speech and 
very slow development, though during the last year her 
eighth year there has been a marked acceleration of her 
progress in this particular. In Preyer's classification of the 
imperfections and derangements of speech there is no pre- 
cise place for such a case as this, as it is neither peripheral 
deafness, nor yet does it seem to be any cerebral derange- 
ment. 1 The difficulty seems to be psychical rather than 

The facts as I have given them were narrated to me by a 
trained nurse, graduate of the New York Hospital Training 
School, who was in my family for a month or more during 
this last winter. She had been for several months in the 
family attending the mother of this child, and had had abund- 
ant opportunity for observation and for acquiring accurate 
information upon the subject. Moreover, she is a woman of 
very unusual ability, as one of the visiting surgeons of the 
New York Hospital assured me, and therefore one whose 
account can be wholly relied upon. In addition to her re- 
port of the case, however, I called upon a physician in New 
York who had known and observed this child for several 
years, and he fully corroborated the statement as made by 
the nurse in all particulars. I learned from him also that 
the child had been examined three different times by an emi- 
nent specialist in New York, and no defects either in the 
outer or middle ear could be detected. The indications all 
pointed to normal peripheral conditions, and the marked 
variations in hearing seem due to the central fluctuations of 
interest and the corresponding concentration or distraction 
of the attention. This appears only as an exaggerated form 
of the normal affect of interest upon attention. As Bradley 2 
says: "If an idea engrosses, then any sensation which is 
connected with that idea may in consequence engross. And 
attention so far has appeared to consist in interest, either 
direct or transferred ; an account which, we shall find, will 

1 The Development of the Intellect, p. 36 ff . 
1 Mind, Vol. XI, p. 310. 


hold good everywhere" (Cf. Waitz, Lehrbuch, 634-7). In 
the ordinary phenomena of hearing, we recognize two mo- 
menta, the external stimulus and the inner adaptation of 
attention. According to Prof. James, 1 " the natural way of 
conceiving this is under the symbolic form of a brain-cell 
played upon from two directions. Whilst the object excites 
it from without, other brain-cells, or perhaps spiritual forces, 
arouse it from within. The latter influence is the adapta- 
tion of the attention.' The plenary energy of the brain-cell 
demands the cooperation of both factors. Not when merely 
present, but when both present and attended to, is the object 
fully perceived." Now, in sense-perception the two mo- 
menta, stimulus without and attention within, are normally 
so related that the former generally predominates, and is 
capable of arousing the activity of the latter, which is thus 
in a sense a function of the former, always reacting when the 
stimulus is sufficiently intense. In the case which we are 
considering, however, the attention does not function in an 
instinctive manner in response to an outer stimulus, and 
seems independent of its degree of intensity ; but is readily 
aroused by the inner interest, and then alone is the con- 
sciousness of the outer stimulus rendered possible. This 
child, for instance, understands the sign language, and that 
is resorted to in order to communicate with her until inter- 
est has quickened the attention, and that in turn has stimu- 
lated the hearing. This is similar, in a much lessened 
degree, to the ordinary cases of what Herbart styles apper- 
ceptive attention viz., where strained attention brings to 
consciousness external stimuli otherwise unnoticed. And 
this is similar also to what Prof. James 2 refers to as the idea- 
tional preparation' for sensation, in which, of course, there 
:is increased attention, reinforced by the dominant idea pres- 
ent in the mind. The function of attention in sense-percep- 
tion is illustrated by Wundt 3 with weak auditory stimuli, 
as the ticking of a watch at some distance from the ear, so 
that it can be perceived only with some strain of attention, 

1 James, Psychology, I, p. 441. 

a Psychology, Vol. I, pp. 453, 439. 

'Wundt, Human and Animal Psychology, pp. 256-7. 


but will fall below the limen of consciousness without any re- 
laxation. At intervals of three or four seconds the regularly 
recurring impressions alternately appear and disappear. In 
this child's case, however, the attention is not merely a 
factor necessary to discriminate concerning very weak 
stimuli, but the very strongest stimuli cannot excite the 
attention through reaction ; it can only be centrally aroused ; 
the hearing, then, being a function of the attention in her 
case, rather than the two being complementary functions 
determined by a law of action and reaction. 

Moreover, a child's attention is characterized ordinarily 
by an extreme susceptibility to the sights and sounds of the 
outer world, and responds almost instinctively to sensorial 
stimuli. Sustained concentration of attention in childhood 
is unusual. 1 It is in mature age that attention follows our 
permanent interests, and only those objects associated with 
such interests find place in consciousness. Absorption in 
contemplation occurs only when a large group of associa- 
tions have for years been forming about the controlling in- 
terest. And even then, with interests of greatest compelling 
power, diversion occurs whenever sensorial stimuli are suffi- 
ciently increased in intensity. This child, however, can 
have no developed associations of any considerable extent 
around her controlling interests; and yet her absorption in 
the same is complete, and her attention is incapable of being 
distracted. There is also a marked difference in her in- 
creased ability to hear whenever questioned concerning 
scenes which she has herself witnessed and in which she has- 
taken part with evident pleasure to herself. For instance, 
after attending an exhibition of Hagenbeck's animals in New 
York, she heard and replied to all questions put to her con- 
cerning the animals and their performances. In this no 
doubt there was an ideational reinforcement of the auditory 
stimuli through the memory pictures still vividly impressed 
upon her mind. The ideational processes causing motor 
discharges which in time would increase the intensity of the 
sensation. This would form a stimulus additional to the 
mental energy arising from the increased interest already 

1 James, Psychology, I, p. 417. 


mentioned. 1 In this connection it may be of interest to 
quote a sentence from Prof. James that bears upon this 
point: " We see how we can attend to a companion's voice 
in the midst of noises which pass unnoticed, though object- 
ively much louder than the words we hear. Each word is 
doubly awakened ; once from without by the lips of the 
talker, but already before that from within by the premoni- 
tory processes irradiating from the previous words, and by 
the dim arousal of all processes that are connected with the 
'topic' of the talk. The irrelevant noises, on the other 
hand, are awakened only once. They form an unconnected 
train." 2 

In accounting for such a phenomenon, it is well also to 
take into consideration the physiological conditions which 
tend to increase the intensity of a sensation when the atten- 
tion is unusually concentrated upon it. There seem to be 
indications of increased circulation in the parts concerned. 
This is stated by Dr. Cappie in his article on The Physi- 
ology of Attention and Volition' 3 : " The mental effect pro- 
duced by an impression on a sensory surface is stronger, 
and details about the impressing cause are more completely 
gathered in when the mind is concentrated on it. ... Two 
factors, at least, may be specified as bearing on this prob- 
lem. In the first place, when the consciousness is engrossed 
by an immediate sensation, the sphere of encephalic activity 
is comparatively restricted. In the second place, the ence- 
phalic circulation will be focused in the direction of activity. 
The molecular agitation occasions a necessity and an attrac- 
tion for more blood, and determination of this takes place all 
the more freely on account of the quiescence of the large 
part of the brain. The latter has, as it were, loosened its 
hold on the circulation, and the impetus towards those parts 
which have an attraction for it is thus all the stronger. The 
increased activity of the circulation then reacts on the ener- 
gies of the tissue, and the mental effect produced is there- 
fore greater." 

1 Baldwin, Mental Development, pp. 462-3. 

a James, Psychology, Vol. I, p. 450. 

8 Popular Science Monthly, Vol. XXX, pp. 231-2. 


Now, in the case of this child, it seems as though the 
conditions, both physiological and psychological, are pres- 
ent in exaggerated form, in order to produce the unusual 
results. The difference, however, between this case and 
normal instances is a difference rather of degree than of kind. 

An additional feature of interest lies in the similarity 
between the phenomena we have been considering and the 
phenomena often accompanying attacks of hysteria. In such 
cases there is generally a very restricted field of attention, 
and the patient becomes so completely absorbed in some en- 
grossing subject as to appear completely oblivious to all 
sensorial stimuli whatsoever. For instance, take such a 
case as cited by Pierre Janet: Lucie, while talking to one 
person, was insensible to all sounds about her, and could 
even be touched without being conscious of it. And when 
L6onie was knitting or writing, you might open or shut the 
door with a loud noise, speak to her, touch her, etc., with- 
out her perceiving it at all. Moreover, there were parts of 
her body which were so extremely sensitive to touch as to 
provoke cries of pain and even convulsions ; and yet, when 
preoccupied by work or simple conversation, she could be 
touched upon the same hyperaesthesia spots, with no indica- 
tion that she perceived this. 1 This account is very similar to 
the report which I received in reply to a letter which I wrote 
to the nurse above mentioned, making further inquiry con- 
cerning this child's case, and asking particularly whether she 
could hear when spoken to from behind, where her attention 
could not be aroused by any visual stimulus. The follow- 
ing is the answer which I received: " Her ability to hear 
when interested, in comparison with times when not inter- 
ested, is very marked. She can hear if you stand behind 
her and talk very loud, but not very well ; and never when 
she has her mind concentrated on another object; for in- 
stance, if she is at a window, looking out at something which 
has her attention, it is impossible to make her hear." 

A case somewhat similar, yet with certain interesting 
peculiarities, is quoted by Pick from Pitres' 2 Lemons cliniques 

1 Pierre Janet, II Automatisme Psychologique, pp. 188-9. 
*Zdt. fiir Psych., p. 168. 


sur r hysteric : "The patient, with eyes open, could hear; 
but with eyes closed could not; with one eye open it was 
possible to hear in the ear opposite, but not in the ear upon 
the same side as the opened eye." In this same article by 
Pick, Ueber die sogenannte Conscience Musculaire (Duchenne), 
there is a general historical survey from the time of Duchenne 
to the present concerning cases of anaesthesia, in which 
motor activities have been mediated through visual attention, 
indicating the quickening of motor as well as sensory func- 
tions, by means of a concentration of attention. In all cases 
where there was not this aid of attention through auditory 
or visual direction, the attempted movements were impossi- 
ble. It has been also observed that in the somnambulistic 
state subjects are sensitive to the voice of the hypnotizer, 
but do not hear other voices. M. Janet mentions the case 
of one in this condition who could see a candle lighted by 
himself, but not those lighted by others; and adds that such 
"is not peculiar to the somnambulistic state, but exists in 
high degree among all persons susceptible to suggestion. 
It is an exaggerated state of distraction which is not merely 
temporary, and not the result of voluntary attention directed 
exclusively to one sense ; but it is a state of natural and per- 
petual distraction which prevents these persons from per- 
ceiving any other sensation than that which actually occupies 
the whole field of consciousness." 1 

The case of this child seems to occupy a position midway 
between the temporary and permanent states of distraction 
as mentioned in M. Janet's account. In all of the similar 
instances which I have given, as parallel to this case, I have 
endeavored to indicate varying stages of concentrated atten- 
tion from the normal to the exaggerated and abnormal; and 
as closely related phenomena we may consider them as differ- 
ent manifestations of one and the same tendency the inten- 
sified force of attention producing an exaggerated modifica- 
tion of the intensity of sensorial stimuli. 

*P. Janet, L* Automatisme Psychologique, p. 189. 



Yale University. 

In the PSYCHOLOGICAL REVIEW for Jan., 1894, I called 
attention to the practical and theoretical advantage of the 
median over the arithmetic mean. Since that time the me- 
dian has been employed in many thousand adjustments with 
entire success. The theoretical justification has, however, 
been lacking, and correct formulas have not been given. 

In the Studies from the Yale Psychological Laboratory, 1894, 
II, 5, I have presented a theoretical consideration of the 
median. Owing to condensation the practical computation 
has not been explained in such a way as to be available to 
the non-mathematical reader. Fechner is the only one who 
has attempted to give practical rules. They are not quite 
correct, and, as experience during the past year has shown, 
are incomplete. I propose here to put the matter in a prac- 
tical shape for actual computation, all theoretical discussion 
being avoided. Suppose that you have a set of n measure- 
ments, x^ x v . , x n . Starting with the smallest value, 

check them off in order of size till you come to the - th 
value. Then, as a verification, start with the largest value 
and check off downward to the - th value. For an odd 

number of measurements the two results will agree ; for an 
even number they will agree or be adjacent in order of size. 
For example, suppose we have the following results of a 
set of experiments on reaction-time: 213, 215, 214, 210, 212, 
214, 215, 210, 212. There are 9 values, and the middle 

value is the ( Jth or 5th. The smallest is 210, the next 

smallest is 210, the next 211, etc. The 5th is 213. The 
largest is 215, the next 215, etc. The 5th is 213. 


Let us take, as another example, the set of values: 44, 
51, 46, 50, 47, 49, 47, 45, 48, 50. The median will be the 

or 5jth value. The 5th from the smallest is 47; 

the 5th from the largest is 48; the 5jth will naturally lie 
between the two, and we take 47^ as the median. 

A third variety of examples arises by taking a set of 
results where several values fall on the same number as 
median. Suppose we have 127, 123, 121, 123, 125, 124, 121, 

120, 122, 123, 124, 123, 123, 123, 123, 122, 121, 125, 124, 121, 

Result, 120 121 122 123 124 125 

Times of occurrence, 143542 

The (-^t-Jth or loth value is 123. The expression M=* 

113, however, does not mean M= 123,000 . . . but 123.5 > 
J/> 122.5, because we have been rounding off by errors of 
scale and errors of number all records to the unit-place 
instead of writing them to an indefinite number of decimals. 
Owing to the fact that 5 values fall upon 123, we know 
something about the first decimal place. 

We are entitled to suppose that all values of 123 have 
arisen from values evenly distributed between 122.5 an< ^ 12 3-S- 
Counting from the smallest end, we have 8 values up to the 
limit of the region covered by the middle values ; counting 
from the larger end, we have 6 values down to the other 
limit of this region. 

The general formula is expressed as follows: Letr be the 
value on which the median falls, and let there be m such 
values. Let the number of values above r be a and below r 
be b. Then take c = a b and 

1 2 m 
This will give the decimal places for the median. 

In the last example & = 8, a =6, c= 2, m = $, r=$ 
and consequently 

'=3 + = 2.8. 

~ 10 



Although we know something about the first decimal 
place, we know nothing of any worth regarding the second 
decimal place unless m > 100. 

To make clearer the third kind of example, I subjoin a 
set of specimens that show how the changes in c affect the 
value of M. 





II 12 13 13 13 13 14 15 IS 15 

m = 4 
= 13 + |= 

ii 12 13 13 1 3 13 I 4 15 

b =2 m= 4 0=2 

= o J/=i3-fo=i3 

10 ii, 12 13 13 13 13 14 15 

c= I 

m = 4 

9 10 ii 12 13 13 13 13 14 

= 4 ^ = 4 

=-3 M=i3-% = 

9 10 ii 12 13 13 13 13 


9 10 ii 12 

15 15 15 

a 4 

The computation in the last two kinds of examples is so 


simple that it can be performed with great rapidity. Those 
of the other kind are almost as easy as soon as the computer 
becomes familiar with the median. Indeed, the economy of 
the median, in respect to time is something that can be 
appreciated only by some one who is obliged to compute 
many sets of results. 



Yale University. 

Probably the most important event during the year was 
the introduction of the median as a mean value in place of 
the arithmetical mean. Early in the year it became evident 
that the arithmetical mean was a poor one to use for the re- 
sults obtained and the median was substituted. This value 
is the middle one from either extreme in a set of values ar- 
ranged in the order of size. It had been theoretically dis- 
cussed by Laplace and Fechner, but had never been put to 
practical use. The main reason for this radical departure 
can be summed up briefly as follows: I. Psychological and 
statistical measurements almost always follow an assymmet- 
rical law of probability, and for such cases the median is a 
better representative than the arithmetical mean ; 2. the sav- 
ing in labor of compensation is very great; 3. the small 
numerical disadvantage is almost never of importance. The 
first article of the second issue of the Studies from the Yale 
Psychological Laboratory makes an attempt at a thorough 
theoretical treatment of the median and a comparison of it 
with the arithmetical mean. The article, although crude 
and incomplete, may derive some value from the fact that 
the author subjected it to criticism and correction by several 
mathematicians, notably Prof. Gibbs. 

The most extensive investigation of the year was by Mr. 
Gilbert on the mental and physical development of school 
children. About 1,400 children were subjected to tests and 
measurements on the muscle-sense, color-sensitiveness, sug- 
gestibility, reaction-time, discrimination-time, time-memory, 


voluntary motor ability and fatigue, weight, height and 
lung-capacity. The ages are from 6 to 17. Tables and 
curves of results show the laws of development with age. 

The work is presented in the thesis in so condensed a 
form that it is impossible to further summarize it. Its great 
value probably lies in the opening-up for investigation the 
field of mental life in school-children by the invention of 
suitable methods and apparatus. It is a contribution to 
child-study and anthropology, in which the methods of the 
new psychology are applied for the first time. The use of 
mean variation, of two kinds for the study of the children is 
a notable innovation. 

An investigation on the highest audible tone led to the 
following conclusions: i. The pitch of the highest audible 
tone varies directly and almost proportionately with the in- 
tensity ; 2. the highest audible tone is much higher when 
proceeding from silence to sound than when proceeding from 
sound to silence; 3. fatigue has apparently no effect; 4. 
fluctuations were found similar to the fluctuations for the 
threshold of intensity; 5. above the highest audible tone 
there is still found an indefinite, somewhat painful sensation. 

Experiments on the education of muscular control and 
power lead to the conclusions: i. Steadiness of movement 
can be increased by practice; 2. this increase in steadiness 
is not limited to the muscles immediately trained, it affects 
the control of the corresponding muscles on the opposite 
side of the body ; 3. the training consists principally in train- 
ing in steadiness of attention ; 4. the increase in muscular 
power by training, as measured by a dynamometer, is partly 
transferred to the opposite side without training. 

Some experiments made on fencers and others seem to 
justify the statements: 

1. The average fencer is not quicker in simple reaction 
(where a few mental elements are involved) than a trained 

2. When once the mind is made up to execute a move- 
ment, fencers are far quicker in the actual execution. 

3. As the mental process becomes more complicated, the 


time required by the average fencer is greater than that re- 
quired by a trained scientist. 

4. The general conclusion seems to be that fencing does 
not develop mental quickness more than scientific pursuits, 
but it does develop to a high degree the rapidity of execut- 
ing movements. 

The investigations mentioned thus far are published in 
the Yale Studies. 

Throughout the year the investigation of hallucination 
and suggestion has been continued ; it will be brought to a 
close in the coming year. 

An investigation on the least perceptible change in the 
intensity of light has been carried on at intervals during two 
years, but is still left unfinished. 

The scientific policy of the laboratory remains unchanged, 
the main effort being to train the members to accurate and 
reliable work. That this is not always successful is gener- 
ally due to previous defective mathematical training. 

In the account of the laboratory for the first year (PSY- 
CHOLOGICAL REVIEW for Jan., 1894), mention was made of 
the success of the small workshop. During the past year 
the equipment was largely increased by the introduction of 
a two horse-power motor, shafting, etc., and by the pur- 
chase of new tools. It is the desire of the laboratory to 
offer facilities to all psychological institutions for the con- 
struction of fine apparatus. 

The officers of the laboratory during the year were : 
E. W. Scripture, instructor and director, and C. B. Bliss, 
lecturer and assistant. Mr. J. J. Hogan was employed as 
instrument maker and electrician. Dr. Bliss left at the end 
of the year to take the place of assistant professor in the 
University of the City of New York. 



The rapid development of laboratories for the study of Physiolog- 
ical and Experimental Psychology has silenced the chief objections 
to such methods of investigating the facts of mind. It is doubtful 
if any other subject ever experienced as rapid changes in method 
and point of view as has psychology during the last five years. We 
need not go back fifteen years to find the beginning of the first 
laboratory in America. The first was also the only one till 1887. 
During the next three years about one laboratory per year was 
begun in this country ; then several came at once, and for three 
years thereafter they fairly poured upon us. The past year has wit- 
nessed the establishment of fewer well-equipped laboratories, proba- 
bly because all the more important schools of our land had already 
inaugurated the work. The universities of Michigan, California and 
Minnesota, in which psychology has always been subordinated to 
History of Philosophy and Ethics, have not attempted to withstand 
the tide. For the past two years the chief progress, perhaps, has 
been in the normal schools and in modifying the methods of teach- 
ers of philosophy in the smaller colleges. The text-books of men 
who are believed fairly to represent the attitude of Harvard, Yale 
and Princeton toward the 'matsrialism' of the new movement, have 
done more than all else to make easy the growth of modern psy- 
chology in our denominational colleges and in our normal schools. 

Now that a firm foothold is acquired, may we not profitably look 
about us to discover, if possible, where we stand ? The establish- 
ment of more than thirty psychological laboratories in this country 
in the last five years was not the result of a carefully matured plan 
to revolutionize instruction in philosophy. Indeed there has been 
no planning done for the college world at large, and unfortunately, 
perhaps, very little for any institution in particular. The men and 
women at the head of these laboratories have come from several 
independent schools for original investigation, or from one or two 
schools in this country with much the same object, or have picked 
up their knowledge by reading and private experimenting. Proba- 
bly not one of these directors has followed any general plan in use 



elsewhere. We have, therefore, as many ideals as we have indi- 
vidual directors. Let nothing be said unfavorable to such a condi- 
tion. It has doubtless made stronger men and has been a prominent 
factor in the extraordinary success of the new movement. Even 
we, however, may learn from the experience of others, and our suc- 
cessors must depend largely upon our work. 

It does not seem out of place to inquire into some of these ideals 
with a view to determine the nature of their agreements and the 
extent of their differences. If sufficient interest in this subject 
exist, a discussion of the aims and possibilities of the new psy- 
chology may lead to a considerable extension of its usefulness with- 
out necessarily interfering with the individuality of the various labor- 
atories and their already efficient directors. It is with a hope to 
provoke such a discussion that this short paper is written. 

In the first place, we note that the new psychology has not taken 
the place of the old psychology, in the sense of having been sub- 
stituted for the latter in the required course of study. While nearly 
all colleges formerly required psychology for graduation, at least in 
some of the courses, there are very few (I know of none) that re- 
quire physiological and experimental psychology for graduation in 
any course. The extension of the elective system has been a most 
potent means of introducing the new work. In what different ways 
this is true need not be enumerated, as nearly every school has made 
the change within the last few years. 

Most of the older universities were content to require a certain 
amount of 'philosophy,' usually a smaller amount, than formerly; 
the student was thus at liberty to select his specific work with the 
consent of the professor in charge. In many of the newer universi- 
ties, especially in the Central States, philosophy was eliminated 
entirely from the required work in some or all of the numerous 
courses leading to the bachelor's degree. 

We may now see some effects of these steps when taken in con- 
junction with the following facts : First, in the larger and older 
schools several professors are engaged in teaching the different sub- 
jects generically called philosophy. As a rule these men are scholars 
of experience, power, skill, influence, and reputation. Also, as a 
rule, the new instructor in experimental psychology has been a 
recent graduate lacking some of the above-mentioned qualities. It 
is very evident why it has seemed inadvisable to attempt to develop 
an undergraduate course that would attract the general student. 
Hence, in nearly all large universities of the East, experimental 
psychology is considered a post-graduate, or at least an advanced, 


philosophical discipline. Students are admitted to its work under 
various conditions, but generally after work in other lines of philoso- 
phy. If we all feel now as I felt when I first determined to study 
the new psychology, this plan would be quite rational indeed con- 
science would demand it; the intellectual, moral and religious safety 
of the students would require such a preparation against the evil 
temptations therein. There is, of course, no question of conscience 
in this method. It is merely the result of conditions that are diffi- 
cult to remove, and perhaps, in most cases, whose removal is not 

The additions to this young science must come mostly from men 
whose professional duties are light and whose energy is commen- 
surate with their leisure. These professors and their well-trained 
students furnish valuable contributions every year. The animating 
spirit, the successful progress and the new recruits must always 
come from men whose entire time is given to research or to students 
engaged in research. The post-graduate work in psychology is even 
more necessary than such work in other departments. The follow- 
ing lines, therefore, will not be understood as an attack upon post- 
graduate work in psychology, nor even as an underestimation of the 
value of such work. 

Is there a field for experimental psychology in undergraduate 
work ? The writer knows there is sometimes in some places, and 
will endeavor to present a few points that seem to him to indicate a 
wider field for such work than, according to his personal knowledge, 
is now covered. 

After the foregoing assertions it will not be surprising to learn 
that the facts in support of my present thesis are furnished mainly 
by a few Western universities where laboratories for undergraduates 
have been successfully conducted with classes, largely elective, 
whose numbers form as large a proportion of the entire student body 
as do the classes in any branch of philosophy in other institutions. 
It does not follow, however, that the conditions of success in these 
lines are peculiar to the West, though it is probably owing to the 
greater relative importance attaching to the instructor or professor 
of the new psychology. In small schools there is seldom another 
with whom to share responsibility or authority. The sole professor 
of philosophy may conduct his work as the chief executive and the 
faculty will endure. These external conditions are more favorable 
in the small school. I shall not attempt to show that in large 
schools the corresponding less favorable conditions can be improved. 
It is the internal evidence that must now engage our attention. 


It is not sufficient to show that large classes in physiological and 
experimental psychology are organized every year in several West- 
ern schools. This fact shows the possibility of doing such work 
with undergraduates and with overworked instructors. It remains 
to show that the contrary practice of many schools arises chiefly 
from the circumstances already alluded to, or at least that the neg- 
lect of the new psychology in undergraduate work is not due to any 
constitutional defect in the methods of this science. The apparent 
difficulties are not insuperable. The most formidable one is doubt- 
less the need of a laboratory. But a laboratory is also necessary for 
advanced work. A valid objection, however, is discovered in the 
time required for this work. Better supervision is required than for 
laboratory work in either chemistry or physics. This demands per- 
sonal attention from the instructor in psychology. I think this 
objection is unanswerable. If instructors in psychology are unwill- 
ing to do this kind of work, we must wait until another species of 
instructor can be evolved. 

It ought to be unnecessary to describe the effect on the student, 
of a laboratory course in psychology, and yet, like chemistry and 
physics and botany and zoology, this new science will have to fight 
for every inch of ground. The battle will probably take much the 
same general course. The first campaign has been won, and psy- 
chology may now have a laboratory for advanced workers. It is 
not my purpose to show that it is worth while to begin the study of 
all science by direct appeal to the original sources, nor shall I at- 
tempt to answer that valuable proposition concerning the necessity 
of book learning. We certainly cannot obtain all knowledge from 
our personal experience. It is generally recognized, however, as 
good policy to have some original ideas or personal experience be- 
fore we depend much on books. There can be no defence of the 
introduction of the new psychology into beginning classes without 
practical work. Logic and metaphysics and the dictionary may be 
well taught without a laboratory ; physiological and experimental 
psychology require some things to see and feel. Unless the spirit of 
the new method is breathed into the work, logic, metaphysics or 
ancient psychology may as well retain their place as introductions to 
philosophy. This spirit cannot be communicated to a large propor- 
tion of students by the most brilliant lecturer with a text-book as 
assistant. If it can be imparted in any manner, by any means, at 
any cost, it is worth serious consideration. It is said that only one 
student in ten receives much benefit from the required course in 
philosophy, and. that- students seldom elect additional work, in this 


line outside of lecture 'snaps.' Philosophy at least should be taught 
philosophically. No one denies that the most elementary principles 
of method are ignored by very many college teachers. Philosophy, 
perhaps more than any other discipline, is a sufferer from this cause. 
The self-activity of the individual is talked about in a more or less 
interesting manner, but there is often little successful effort made 
to start this activity a-going. 

The writer does not believe, with some college professors, that 
philosophy is good only for the few. The introductory course in 
philosophy that does not force half the class into activity, and stim- 
ulate them to further systematic study, fails in its mission. Interest 
is of course essential ; but interest that does not lead to inquiry, the 
interest that disappears with the professor's manuscript, is mere 
emotional debauchery. 

Let us try to analyze the causes of the success of the new psy- 
chology as an introduction to the study of philosophy. Retaining 
our concrete form of exposition, we have first to note the kind of 
mental food the beginner in philosophy has been accustomed to. 
He is perhaps a junior. In every instance at least half of his pre- 
vious study has been in language. Nearly half the remainder in 
mathematics. The other fourth has been given to science or to lan- 
guage, or in a few schools it may have been given to history. The 
first years in science do not always have the philosophical interest 
that might be attached to them if instructors were not bent on mak- 
ing specialists. Too often, though needless, the mechanical accu- 
mulation of facts, the unaided rediscovery of simple truths, 'discip- 
line' blinds for a time the learner. In nearly all cases he is not led 
to connect his new knowledge with himself. This is not a fault of 
science, but is the misfortune of some teachers of science. 

Language teaching is recognized as especially prone to dwell on 
the form and to neglect the substance of literature. It sometimes 
becomes painfully inhuman if not fiendish in its neglect of heart and 
soul. History is certainly alive. It is, moreover, at least anthro- 
poid. The first years, however, are usually devoted to times having 
least in common with our own. It is difficult for the young student 
to put himself in place of the common citizen of Peiraeus or Ostia. 
The generalizations of history are especially difficult because of the 
complexity of conditions and the social and political inexperience of 
the learner. 

The junior, therefore, comes to psychology with considerable 
mental discipline, with some formal knowledge of the world's his- 
tory, and with more or less information concerning isolated facts of 
several sciences. 


A general course of physiological and experimental psychology 
with laboratory practice ought not only to add to his store of iso- 
lated facts, or even merely to impart additional mental culture; 
the opportunity for philosophical instruction must not be lost. The 
needed facts of the associated sciences will be brought together ; 
their relations will become clear, and gradually there will grow up a 
rational appreciation of the interdependence of the forces of nature. 
Everything now points to man and to me. Its humanity is, of 
course, the chief characteristic of philosophy. The new psychology 
would fit the beginner to understand that all the universe is akin. 
This is the first opportunity the general student will have for bring- 
ing together many results of his previous study. Psychology is bet- 
ter fitted than any other branch of philosophy to suggest and to 
direct this reorganization, because it furnishes very many of the 
necessary facts, and does not plunge the inquirer too suddenly into 
bottomless speculation. I do not think it desirable or possible to 
exclude metaphysics from this introductory course, but the material 
is very largely positive, and the transition may be made so gradually 
that students will naturally grow the wings of generalization. 

Besides furnishing essential materials for the further study of 
philosophy, this introductory course should familiarize the student 
with the characteristics of philosophic thinking, and, above all, 
should test his taste for work of a similar nature. If treated as an 
introduction to philosophy, and not as a course in philologic encyclo- 
pedism, or as special preparation for specializing in a specific 
specialty, the first year in the new psychology ought to stimulate 
many students to further work in related lines. 

It therefore should be recommended to juniors and should occu- 
py about one-fourth of their time for a year. At least two hours 
per week should be spent in the laboratory. The class work should 
not be formal and impersonal lectures, nor should it be time-killing 
oral quizes. Informal conferences, mutual quizes and explanations 
should be accompanied by frequent written reviews. If possible the 
instructor should be suppressed and the director and inspirer brought 
into his place. Such a course affords sufficient opportunity to be- 
come acquainted with the work of at least half a dozen modern 
writers besides a score of classic monographs. Yet, with the labor- 
atory work, this is more than the introductory course in philosophy 
usually accomplishes. H. K. WOLFE. 




I regret very much that my review of Dr. Hodgson's address 
should seem to him unfair or lacking in courtesy. In his reply he is 
good enough to say that what he regards as a misstatement of his 
reasoning on my part was of course unintentional. Had I to re- 
write the review I should with equal courtesy state that Dr. Hodg- 
son's securing his conclusions by * blowing both hot and cold in his 
premises' was unintentional, but at the time I wrote this fact seemed 
to me so obvious as to be undeserving of mention. Dr. Hodgson 
set out with a determination to make 'truth the paramount conside- 
ration.' He has, however, as I cannot but believe, reasoned badly; 
and after having carefully read his reply and re-read his address, I 
fail to see that I have done him injustice. If he dislikes the expres- 
sion of which I made use in describing his reasoning, I very 
willingly withdraw it, for it was no part of my purpose to cause 
needless pain to a writer whose works I read with both pleasure and 
profit. To me the phrase seems a harmless one, and much less 
energetic than the expressions of which he has himself made use in 
commenting upon my review. 

As to the three confusions attributed to me : the careful reader 
of page 99 of the January number will notice that I nowhere confuse 
Mr. Hodgson's 'material world' with his 'universe.' That part of 
the universe beyond the limits of the known world of matter I call 
the 'world of faith.' Mr. Hodgson has himself called it an 'unseen 
world' (pp. 16, 17, 18), and has stated that belief in it is 'a state of 
mind which we call Faith' (p. 18). In the part of my review to 
which Mr. Hodgson objects it is treated precisely as it is in the part 
which he finds appreciative and generous, and for which he thanks 
me. Of the nature of the 'material element' which fills time and 
space in this world of faith I have said nothing. 

The careful reader will notice, in the second place, that I 
nowhere confound Mr. Hodgson's 'material element in conscious- 
ness' with his 'matter' or 'material world.' Indeed, when I use the 
word 'matter' to indicate the material element in consciousness, I 
put it in quotation marks, and when I use it in the ordinary sense, 
as in the phrase 'the world of matter,' I do not do this. At one 
period of my life (with some shame do I confess it) I was a thorough 
Kantian, and I spent too many years in the company of 'matter' 
and 'form' to be capable of so gross a blunder. I am quite sure 
that an attentive reading of what I have written will reveal that I 
have not made this blunder. 


As regards the third confusion that between Mr. Hodgson's 
'perceptually known' and his 'positively known 1 here we have the 
very Kern ' of the ' Pudel ; ' and in his use of these terms lies, as I 
believe, the very head and front of Mr. Hodgson's offending. I 
saw, of course, in reading his address, that he did not make the two 
strictly synonymous, and I have nowhere indicated that he did. I 
saw, however, with equal clearness, that to make them synonymous 
when treating of the ' formal ' element in consciousness, and to dis- 
tinguish between them when treating of the 'material' was an incon- 
sistency which one might not unjustly characterize as 'blowing both 
hot and cold.' That Mr. Hodgson has been guilty of this incon- 
sistency I can best show by giving a brief sketch of his argument. 

He begins (Section II) by analyzing consciousness into its ma- 
terial and formal elements, concluding, as a result of this analysis, 
that infinity must attach, in the last resort, to time and space alone 
(p. 6). Section III is taken up with a digression on the nature of 
intensive quantity. In Section IV he returns to what he declares to 
be the main question of the evening, the conception of infinity, and 
sets before himself the double task : (i) of ascertaining its meaning, 
'and consequently the nature of time and space in respect to 
infinity ;' and (2) of discovering 'to what other things the attribute 
of infinity may be found to attach, in virtue of their connection 
with time and space, and what views of the Sum of Things are im- 
posed upon us in consequence of the relations so disclosed* (p. 8). 
He concludes here that 'space and time in their entirety are wholly 
limitless and inexhaustible' (p. n), since it is impossible to perceive 
or imagine a limit to or in space or time without perceiving or 
imagining it as having space or time on both sides of it. 

Section V points out at length that the infinity of time and space 
are 'facts of perception,' not conceptions. 'We observe them,' he 
declares, 'alike in the minima and maxima of perception' (p. n) ; 
'what thought does with them is to make them objects of concep- 
tion, out of, and as well as, objects of perception' (p. 12). A con- 
ception is declared to be a man-made entity in contrast to a 
perception independent of conceptual thought (p. 13) ; the concep- 
tion of infinity is our gathering up of the facts constituting our per- 
ception of infinity into a single conspectus (p. 14). Thus Mr. Hodg- 
son makes the infinity of time and space facts of perception 
perceived facts. We do not infer or assume that time and space are 
infinite, but we perceive it, if, indeed, the above statements and 
others like them mean anything at all. Surely I am justified in 
thinking that Mr. Hodgson admits perceived facts to be worthy of 


the name of positive knowledge, and that time and space ' percep- 
tually' known as infinite are 'positively' known as infinite. The 
passage I shall quote just below will make clear that he does not 
regard the infinity of time and space as an article of faith. 

This brings me to the concluding section of the address, which 
discusses the view of the universe involved in taking 'the perceptual 
facts constituting infinity as a disclosure, as far as they go, of its 
true nature.' It takes up, in other words, the second part of the 
task which, in Section IV, Mr. Hodgson set before himself. He 
reasons (p. 15) as follows : "Next, then, let us ***** see 
what follows from that view of infinity which I have endeavored to 
lay before you this evening, infinity as depending on perceptual 
facts. Since on this view the Universe is known to us only as exist- 
ing in time and space, and these are known to us as extending be- 
yond any boundary which we can conceive or imagine ; and since, 
moreover, time and space are known to us, each in its kind and 
province, as inseparable co-elements of existing things, it follows 
that we must conceive existence as extending commensurably with 
time and space, beyond the boundaries of existence as positively 
known or imaginable by us. For in the infinity of time and space is 
involved their existence beyond the limits of any content positively 
known to us, and in their existence is involved that of some co-ele- 
ment or other, though not positively known to us, seeing that it is 
only as a co-element that we know them. You see how important 
are the two facts, disclosed only by analysis, first the illimitability of 
the formal element in consciousness, secondly its inseparability from 
its material co-element." 

From the above I think Mr. Hodgson's mode of procedure in 
getting his world of faith is clear enough, as is also the defect in his 
reasoning. He finds in consciousness two inseparable elements : 
one of them is illimitable (p. 16), perceived to be illimitable (p. u 
ff.), known to be illimitable (p. 15). Since the two are inseparable, 
he argues, the other must be illimitable too, though we do not posi- 
tively know it. In my review I pointed out that our positive 
knowledge ought to extend just as far in the case of the one element 
as in that of the other. Are they not inseparable ? And if the 
infinity of space be a perceived fact, must not the infinity of that 
which fills the space perceived (I do not say matter) be a perceived 
fact too ? Space and time, says Mr. Hodgson, cannot be perceived 
alone. Surely consistency would require Mr. Hodgson to maintain 
that the universe is perceived to be infinite, and that, if there be 
a world of faith, it can at least not be assumed as an indispensable 


co-element to fill empty space and time. According to Section 
II of the address there can be no gap to fill 'this occupation of 
what I will call the formal element by feeling is essential to conscious- 
ness.' Were there, by any possibility, an empty space or time to 
fill, Mr. Hodgson's argument would lapse from the mere fact that 
the material element would thereby be proved not to be an indispen- 
sable co-element, and inseparable from the formal. 

In his reply Mr. Hodgson admits that, when we perceive space 
and time to be infinite, 'some kind of material element in conscious- 
ness' shares their infinity. This admission is fatal to the argument. 
We have here a co-element already given, and none need be assumed. 
Is space perceived to be infinite ? then so is this. Mr. Hodgson evi- 
dently thinks that such a co-element will not serve the purpose, and 
faith must provide another. His reason for this I think I can guess. 
His 'perceptual knowledge' does not really mean perception, 
although he has (Section V) treated it as such. When I perceive a 
chair, the content is as unmistakably perceived as the form. My 
knowledge of either element is equally positive. Can we in the same 
sense say that we perceive space and time to be infinite ? Are we 
talking of genuine perception ? Do we really perceive either the space 
and time or the material co-element that shares their infinity ? Surely 
not. 'Perceptual knowledge' of the infinity of space and time I be- 
lieve to be a delusion and a snare, and I believe it would conduce to 
clearness to avoid the expression altogether. It does not concern 
the question of the consistency of Mr. Hodgson's argument to enter 
into a discussion of the infinity and infinite divisibility of space and 
time. For this reason I omitted the discussion in my review of the 
address, and for the same reason I omit it here, merely referring 
anyone who may feel a curiosity upon this point to what I have 
printed elsewhere. 1 That perceptual knowledge does not really 
mean perception, even to Mr. Hodgson, appears to me evident from 
the language of his reply. He defines a 'perceptual knowledge' of 
time and space as a representation of them as filled with some material 
element in consciousness ; and in what precedes he uses, as though 
they might, in his argument, be made to stand for each other, the 
expressions 'perceived,' 'represented in thought' and 'thought of 
as existing.' The inconsistency of Mr. Hodgson's reasoning lies, as 
I have already pointed out, in the fact that his 'perceptional 
knowledge' is made equivalent to perception and gives positive in- 
formation in the case of the formal element in consciousness, but 

1 ' The Conception of the Infinite,' Phila., 1887. 'On Sameness and Identity,' 
Phila., 1890, 36. 'The Philosophy of Spinoza,' 2d Edition. N. Y., 1894, p. 274, ff. 


has a different meaning and fails to give such information in the 
case of the material element. The inconsistency stares one in the 

In the last section of his address Mr. Hodgson has inserted two 
arguments for his world of faith, which form no part of his main dis- 
cussion, and might very well have been advanced by one who had no 
sympathy with his ideas on infinity. The one is, that the world of 
matter does not furnish answers to all the questions it raises, and 
that these answers may be found in a world beyond it. The other 
is that there may well be modes of existence of which our present 
senses can give us no information. Upon these arguments it is un- 
necessary for me to dwell, for they have, as I have said, no neces- 
sary connection with the 'infinity and co-element' argument which 
I have criticized. G. S. F. 



If light is admitted into the eye through two small holes in 
diaphragm held in the front focal plane, two images of a blood- 
vessel in the front part of the retina are cast upon the sensitive 
layer. If now red and blue light are admitted together through 
the hole, the two shadows cast by the red light are farther apart 
than those cast by the blue light ; and Prof. Konig has accounted 
for this fact by supposing that the layer of the retina which is sen- 
sitive to red rays is farther behind the blood vessel than that which 
is sensitive to blue rays, and, in fact, is behind the rods and comes 
altogether and in the pigment epithelium. Schapringer 1 says that 
the fact can be accounted for more simply. His argument is this : 
The point at which rays proceeding from a source of light are 
brought together is in the line joining the source of light with the 
nodal point of the eye (HN in the figure), and all the rays which 
reach this point are within a cone whose apex is this point and 
whose base is the pupil of the eye. For a source of light near the 
eye, this point is behind the retina, and farther behind for red rays 
than for blue. Now, the apparent position of the source of light is 
determined by the centre of its diffusion-circle, and the centre of the 
diffusion-circle will be farther away from the axis of the eye than is 
the point in which the line HN meets the retina, and the more so 

1 Findet die 'Perception der verse hie denen Far ben in ein und derselbe Lage der 
Netzhaut statt ? Pfl. Archiv., LX, 296-302. 


the less refrangible are the rays of light. The virtual position of 
the image of H will, therefore, be farther from the axis if H is a red 
object than if it is a blue object; and the more so, again, the farther 
the bright point H is from the axis of the eye the line FN pro- 
duced. What follows from this, with perfect rigor, is that two 
objects, H and H', will seem to be farther apart in red light than in 
blue. Dr. Schapringer takes it for granted that this is the same 
thing as to say that the shadows cast by a minute object in front of 
the nervous layer of the retina will be farther apart in red light than 

H' H 

in blue. He says : " Hence in red light the shadow falls on a spot 
farther from the axis than in blue, and this is the reason why with 
two holes the shadows are farther apart in red light than in blue." 
This is, in the first place, very inaccurately expressed ; the red 
shadows might both be farther from the axis than the blue shadows, 
and yet not be farther apart from each other ; what is necessary is 
that the shadow from the point H' be more farther away than from 
the point H. But overlooking this point (which is a mere slip of 
the pen), Dr. Schapringer's argument .seems to involve a substitu- 
tion of dissimilars. The position of the shadow has nothing to do 


with the centre of the diffusion-circle, but is determined solely by 
the direction of that ray of light which has been intercepted by the 
blood-vessel. When the point H is in the front focal plane of the 
eye for red, the red beam of light is a cylinder, and the blue beam 
of light is slightly convergent. (The convergence is exaggerated in 
the diagram.) This convergence, Schapringer says, would be so 
slight that it may be neglected, and he accordingly makes the blue 
beam of light also a cylinder, but proceeding in a different direction 
from the red beam. It would seem that in doing this he throws 
away as insignificant the very difference in refrangibility in which 
the cause of the phenomenon must be sought, and at the same time 
assumes a difference in direction of the two beams which does not 
exist if they are both taken to be cylinders. Even if the beam of 
red light be taken to be a cone, then the case would be different 
according as the distance apart of the two holes, H and H', is such 
that the shadow-casting blood-vessel is in the right-hand half of 
each beam, the left-hand half of each, or in the right-hand half 
of one and the left-hand half of the other ; the red shadows would 
be farther apart than the blue or nearer together, according as one 
or the other of these conditions prevailed, or they might even hap- 
pen to be equally distant. And it would still remain to be shown 
that this source of difference, if in the right direction, was sufficient 
in amount. Prof. Konig has as yet published only a brief sketch of 
his work, and the exact details of it are consequently not yet known. 1 
It is, of course, impossible to suppose that he has not himself taken 
account of the difference of refrangibility of red and blue light. At 
the same time the reasons against his conclusion are so strong (this 
REVIEW, II., p. 144) that any simple means of accounting for the 
fact which would hold water would be very welcome. 



Certain points emphasized in Prof. Armstrong's kindly notice of 
my book, Philosophy of Mind, enable me to make two or three desir- 
able explanations. 

In the first place, it is regarded as a defect, which increases 
he difficulty of understanding fully some of my positions, that the 
theory of knowledge postulated "is used as a kind of universal, 

1 When measurements are made the red and blue lights are used separately, but 
the accommodation of the eye would seem to be kept unchanged from the fact that the 
other eye is engaged in reading distances upon a scale. 


with little or no systematic determination of subordinate criteria." 
This statement is partially true. But the answer to it, as a charge 
against my method or my conclusions, might be given in these very 
commonplace words: No one can say everything at once, and every- 
one has a certain right to follow his own notions of the best or the 
most convenient order in the discussion of connected topics on phi- 
losophy. In treating of the metaphysics of mind, I have simply 
postulated a general noetical principle which Prof. Armstrong him- 
self admits is '/* some sort' true for all those who believe in the pos- 
sibility of knowledge as implicating reality and have then at once 
proceeded to inquire, what do we know of that particular reality we 
call 'the mind,' and of its actual relations to the body and to exter- 
nal nature ? Of course, those who take the position of the consistent 
positivist (if any such there be), or the deniers of all ontological 
science whatever, cannot accept my argument. For them there is 
no such possibility as a philosophy of mind, properly so called. 
But the 'systematic determination' of this vague general pre- 
mise in noetics is itself the complete theory of knowledge. There- 
fore, if at all by me, this defect of the Philosophy of Mind will 
have to be supplied later and in a separate treatise. I hope then to 
make it clear that the 'intermingling of the psychology and the 
noetics of self-consciousness,' in discussing the metaphysics of mind, 
is no defect of any author's treatment, but an unavoidable result of 
the very nature of the subject treated. 

Again, Prof. Armstrong finds my metaphysics ' familiar almost 
at a glance.' He declares it to be 'distinctly Lotzean in tone/ 
Now, the measure of truth in this declaration depends upon how far we 
agree in understanding Lotze and upon how Prof. Armstrong under- 
stands me. As for myself, after considerable study, I confess I 
cannot understand Lotze on many most important points ; and on 
many others, where I think I do understand him, I cannot agree. 
But metaphysics, in the general sense of the term, is another sub- 
ject on which I have as yet publicly espoused and incorporated into 
this particular metaphysical treatise, only certain general princi- 
ples, to which every one who has any metaphysics whatever will 
agree, I think, when he does something more than merely 'glance 
at' my words. If the latest critic of Lotze interprets him correctly 
in the following sentence, then I certainly am not distinctly Lotzean. 

According to Prof. Jones' conception of Lotze's views, "Ideality 
and reality are handed over respectively to the thought and to its 
object ; so that thought is ideal only, and objects are real only, or 
thought is ideal without being real, and its objects are real without 


being ideal." Or, again : " Just as the real world takes no part in 
the thinking process, so the results of that process, the conceptions, 
classifications, judgments and influences, are not copies of reality, 
nor do they in any way represent really existing facts or events." 
It would be difficult to gather into two sentences of the same length 
views more unlike my own, as to the nature of both thought and 
reality, than these Lotzean utterances if, indeed, they are to be 
so characterized. 

In general, may I not utter a mild and, I presume, it will turn 
out ineffective but earnest protest against being 'classed* in any 
such fashion ? Without pretence of independence or of originality, 
and with cheerful readiness to acknowledge and avail myself of the 
results of all successful research and sound thinking on the part of 
others, I much prefer not to be named after any one. The very 
motto I have chosen for this book is my protest. In this connection 
I will improve the opportunity to say that those critics who have 
.spoken of my Elements of Physiological Psychology as modeled after 
Wundt, etc., simply go contrary to the facts. When I began my 
work in physiological and experimental psychology, now about six- 
teen years ago, I had never read Wundt's work (then only some four 
years old) ; I am not sure now that I even knew of its existence. 
The Grundzuge, and all the other work of the Leipzig laboratory, have 
always been used by me as any other work making allowance for 
differences in quality, quantity and range. But I suppose that some 
of the younger men, who have been trained in the laboratories which 
have sprung up since I began to investigate, have difficulty in 
conceiving how any one could get at any truth in other ways than 
those to which they have been accustomed, or could venture an 
opinion within the mystical and exclusive circle of their own 

I will speak of only one thing more in explanation. Prof. Arm- 
strong complains, not bitterly but mildly, of my polemical style in 
certain chapters of my last book ; and he rebukes me for making use 
of 'horrible examples.' On this point I will only say that, in order 
to discuss three or four views which I considered mistaken, I 
selected the most distinguished and respected examples of these 
views ; and if in treating them polemically I was in any degree un- 
just, or in any place discourteous, I desire once for all humbly to 
apologize. Contrary to my usual custom, I adopted deliberately the 
polemical method as best adapted for discussing certain topics in 
this 'technical treatise.' My judgment as to the wisdom of this 
course I do not now withdraw. In general, I suppose there are 

A NOTICE. 397 

very few writers on psychology and philosophy who have used the 
polemical method so sparingly as I have ; and, on the contrary, 
taking my theological writings also into the account, there are very 
few writers who have suffered so much from it, or so unjustly, at the 
hands of others, and in every way. 

In general,, too, I sincerely hope that the subject to which I am 
devoted may soon pass from the stage of pseudo-critical characteri- 
zation to the stage of really critical and thorough discussion. Just 
now I should particularly like to have my destructive discussion of 
the science and metaphysics of the principle of psycho-physical 
parallelism discussed in its turn. I really think this principle needs- 
sorely at present the assistance and tender nursing care of its cham- 
pions. If a challenge is urgently needed to call forth these cham- 
pions, I am sure the challenge should be issued. 



Rev. W. W. Campbell, the joint author of Study A., against whom 
Prof. Munsterberg in his ' Notice ' fears I have personal emnity, 
permits me to state that " he has read my discussion of the * Motor 
Power of Ideas ' and finds it a dignified and sober criticism, without 
show of enmity, and such as any student ought to accept of his 


Comte, Mill and Spencer : an Outline of Philosophy. J. WATSON. Glas- 
gow, Maclehose ; New York, Macmillan. 1895. Pp. vii-f302. 

The title of this book is a little misleading. Comte, Mill and 
Spencer are treated neither exhaustively nor comparatively nor on 
their own account nor exclusively ; two names have at least an equ 
claim to figure in the title : Darwin, to whom nearly fifty pages are 
given almost as much as respectively to Spencer and to Mill, and 
more than twice the space allotted to Comte and Kant, the dis- 
cussion of whose theories of morality, religion and art takes up fully 
a third of the volume. The aim of the book, as indicated by th< 
sub-title, is to develop, in connection with the criticism of these five 
thinkers, a system of what the author designates as 'Intellects 
Idealism.' For the main outlines of his system he rightly ac 
knowledges his large and manifest indebtedness to Green an< 
Edward Caird. Indeed, his book may be characterised as a syst 
matic exposition in brief compass and in clear and intelligible lan- 
guage of -the dominant British Neo-Kantian or Neo-Hegelian tyj 
of thinking. The method and the matter of exposition are both con- 
formable to the traditions of the school. 

The gist of the argument for the doctrine advocated is found ii 
the chapter criticising Spencer's doctrine of consciousness. Spencer 
maintains that the very nature of consciousness forbids any transcen- 
dence of the distinction of subject and object ; we are referred for the 
explanation of either to its opposite, but neither can be resolved into 
the other. The reply acknowledges the distinction, but seeks to 
show that the object is ultimately identical with the subject. The 
demonstration is as follows : No 'thing' is an isolated individual. 
All its determinations are expressions of relations to something else. 
The particular 'thing,' therefore, is a mode of existence as a whole. 
The object as a whole is, therefore, a systemated unity. Similarly 
of the organism: its bodily structure is related to the whole just like 
anything else. But its functions are inseparable from its structure. 
The total object is, therefore, not merely a systematic but an organic 


unity. But the same considerations apply to feeling, in which the 
life of the organism and, therefore, of the whole world pulsates, and 
to the consciousness which feeling, furnishing its entire content, 
makes possible. The object is, therefore, not only a systematic and 
organic unity, but self-conscious intelligence or God (173). 

The argument seems inconclusive. Granted that no individual 
no bit of matter, no organism, no sentient or conscious being is 
isolated, but that each is an aspect and mirror of the whole ; 
granted, further, that man most perfectly mirrors the whole, inward- 
ising in feeling, in a way, the whole of nature and conscious of this 
whole, in a degree, as he interprets the content of his feeling : does 
it, therefore, follow that the object is identical with the subject, and 
that the whole is one self-conscious intelligence ? Hardly. It fol- 
lows that the universe is of a sort to be mirrored in consciousness, 
and that it somehow includes the principle of consciousness in its 
nature ; but it is a great step to the conclusion that the universe 
is itself self-conscious. This raises the whole question of the self. 
But neither at this point nor elsewhere in the book are the difficul- 
ties connected with this question rigorously dealt with. Professor 
Watson argues, apparently, that because each living being, each 
sentient being, each conscious being is in determinate connection 
with the whole, there is therefore a universal life, a universal sen- 
tiency, a universal consciousness. And because the existence of 
each preceding mode is a condition for the existence of the follow- 
ing, he concludes, apparently, that the lower is the possibility of the 
higher in the sense that it is essentially of the same nature. These 
conclusions may all be true, but they need more explicit mediation. 
The short and easy proof of Idealism is not enough. Nevertheless, 
as an outline of philosophy, it is doubtful if there is any other book 
in English that could be so cordially commended to young students. 


An Introduction to Comparative Psychology. C. L. MORGAN. London, 
Walter Scott ; imported by Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York, 
1894. Pp. xiv + 382. 

Mr. Morgan's 'Introduction to Comparative Psychology' is an 
attempt to clear the ground for a science that has suffered thus far 
from the homocentric character of psychical analysis as comparative 
anatomy and physiology have suffered earlier from the almost exclu- 
sive interest that centered in the human organism. 

With this end in view Mr. Morgan starts with the postulate of a 
monism. He is not, however, convinced of its necessity as a basis 


for comparative psychology, and warns, in a note, all those to whom 
philosophic speculation has no attractions to pass over his prolego- 

It is true that his subsequent analysis may be followed out from 
a dualistic standpoint. It is, for his practical analysis, a matter of 
indifference to Mr. Morgan whether physical and psychical be re- 
garded as two aspects of the same entity or whether we conceive 
them as simply running parallel with each other. His thought is 
dominated by the analogy of the two aspects of the curve. It is 
certainly a matter of indifference to one who would study these two 
aspects, as respects their directions and mutual relations, whether 
he sees them as two aspects of one line or as the corresponding 
aspects of two lines that run parallel with each other. 

It is in terms of just such tangible analogies that Mr. Morgan 
does most of his thinking. The whole treatise is built on three of 
them : (a) that already named between the two aspects of a curve 
and the parallel physical and psychical phenomena, (b) the analogy 
between a wave in an undulating medium and consciousness, and (c) 
that between our recognition of consciousness in another being and 
the inference a clock might make by means of the relation between 
its hands and its own inner works to the inner works of another 
clock from the position of its hands. These analogies cannot lay 
claim to any great novelty ; their value lies in their simplicity and 

Such analogies, however, are at best makeshifts. They inevi- 
tably carry with them much error because they are analogies, /. e., 
concepts which, for the sake of concreteness, are but incompletely 
analyzed and abstracted. We are very definitely of the opinion that 
psychology, especially comparative psychology, needs, on the con- 
trary, a thoroughgoing analysis of its fundamental concepts to put it 
upon its feet. 

Experimental psychology fares, to be sure, about as well with 
the incomplete analysis as it would with the most searching, because 
the most that such an analysis could do would be to justify it in its 
use of the methods of physics and physiology. The theoretical 
stage in no science has done much more than justify and free the 
methods which had been worked out in its first period of discovery. 
Experimental psychology would profit greatly by such a freeing of 
its tools, i. e., in the definite formulation of a psychological method 
as ultimately distinct from those of the physical and biological 
sciences. Still it suffers as yet no serious set-back through this 
lack of definiteness in its own territory. A capital error, such as is 
involved in 'Fechner's law,' will hardly be committed again. 


But the case stands quite differently with comparative psy- 
chology. The experimental psychologist has the test of immediate 
experience for the distinction which he makes between the physical 
and the psychical. The reality of the distinction is justified by the 
success of the life processes that assume it. The experimenter has 
therefore only to follow rigidly the essential reactions that make up 
his life and he need not go astray. This is but another statement 
for the assertion that the distinction between the physical and 
the psychical is an immediate datum of experience. And one must 
go a step further than this ; the distinction between the physical 
and the psychical in others is as really an immediate datum of 
experience. We are as essentially social beings as physical and 
physiological beings, despite the analogy of the clocks. (We must 
deprecate the reappearance of this spook of Paley's watch, after its 
having been laid in the field of natural theology, to haunt the 
domains of a modern science.) The development of the distinction 
between the physical and psychical in others proceeds part passu 
with that in the child's consciousness of himself if for no other 
reason because he could never form the conception of himself as 
psychical without the conception of others. Or again man is 
essentially social. 

The experimenter therefore runs no more risk of making an 
unreal distinction between the physical and psychical in others than 
he does in his analysis of his own consciousness. But just in pro- 
portion as our analysis leaves the stage of self-consciousness within 
which we live, and approaches those points of civilization where we 
are no longer perfectly at home, and especially when we leave the 
human intelligence quite behind and strive to reconstruct the con- 
sciousness of the lower animals, are we at the mercy of dangerous 
analogies which were before harmless. These analogies, in their 
proper place, serve as illustrations, that is act as stimuli to re- 
construct what in all its details is fully within our power. The 
analogy of the clocks may serve fairly well to recall to one the pro- 
cess by which he revises his social judgment detects, as it were, a 
social hallucination. It is as far from copying the state of con- 
sciousness in which a dog recognizes a hostile intruder, as the click 
of a calculating machine would be from describing his angry growl 
at the loss of half his dinner. 

The same criticism holds in regard to the analogy of the wave 
of consciousness. This serves excellently to recall the onward 
sweep of concentrated attention through the mass of details that 
crowd the field of consciousness, and the positions of relative 


importance which those details hold. But while this illustration 
summons up the reality in my consciousness, it is but the most 
superficial analysis of attention. This has the unity and direction 
of the purposive act, not that of a wave propelled by a vis a tergo. 
So that at the point where we are forced to abandon the concrete 
reality of our own full reconstructions, the analogy becomes as false 
as the reconstruction of Greek life, by the romancer of the Middle 
Ages. The Socratic task of substituting analytical definitions for 
illustrations is that which faces the comparative psychologist. In 
the opinion of the reviewer this can only be successfully met when 
the logical process which is the reality of the distinction between 
the physical and psychical has been recognized. 


L'Annfa Psychologique. le. annee (1894). H. BEAUNIS and A. 
BINET, 1895. Paris, Alcan, 1895. Pp. VII -f- 619. 

The value of this excellent publication will be evident at a 
glance. Besides the contributions made during the past year from 
the Laboratory of the Sorbonne reported in full, and deserving 
later notice it contains the fullest and most adequate report of the 
facilities, equipment of the universities, the details of courses of in- 
struction given in the United States that has ever been published. 
This excellent paper is from the pen of Prof. E. B. Delabarre. The 
curious error of the translator M. Binet himself in rendering the 
letters of the degree 'Ph.D.' by Docteur en Medicine, is corrected 
by a note on p. 619. The final part of the book, devoted to a 
bibliography of the literature of psychology, neurology, etc., for the 
year 1894, seems to be full and accurate. It comprises 1217 titles: 
but quite a large number of these are from the literature of '93, and 
it is difficult to see sufficient reason for their presence. Compared 
with the recent Index of Warren and Farrand, it runs short about 
100 titles by number, but seems to include more supplementary 
headings put in as sub-titles 'a,' *b,' etc., throughout. It has more 
French titles, as one would expect, and fewer English, than the 
American publication. One very grave defect, however, of the 
French bibliography, in the opinion of the present reviewer, is that 
all the titles are translated into French. The main function of such 
a bibliography, one would think, is that of giving to those who con- 
sult it exact details of the title, so that it can be ordered from the 
booksellers or referred to under its title in libraries. But how can 
one write for a book and be sure his order will be understood if 
what he orders is only the equivalent in another language of the real 


title ? I myself have actually had this difficulty, or rather uncer- 
tainty, in ordering a title from this Annde. Suppose a Frenchman 
ordering Ladd's 'Manuel de Psychologic,' (an imaginary case) which 
of the author's three books would he be likely to get? French 
readers, on the other hand, are not much benefitted by this preference 
for French : for if a man cannot read an English or German title he 
is not likely to look up the book all of which is in one of those lan- 
guages. The remaining portion of the Annte is an extended collec- 
tion of notices of important pieces of work issued during the year, 
and seems to have been done with great care and labor. Of course 
opinions will differ whether the most important things under each 
head have been selected ; but that is unavoidable where selections 
-are made at all. On the whole, the compilers of the Anntc are to be 
congratulated and thanked. It is pleasant, also, to note their 
announcement that the publication is to continue annually. 

J. M. B. 

Lehrbuch der Psychologic. W. VOLKMANN. 4 te . Auf. Ed. by C. S. 
Cornelius. 2 vols. Cothen, Schulze, 1894-5. Pp. VII + 
511, V + 568. 

All psychologists will welcome the fourth edition of the great 
work of Volkmann. It has long been a standard work, and although 
always partial to the Herbartian wing in its citations of literature no 
less than in the theoretical positions of the author, yet it has had 
great value as a work of reference. It must be said, however, that 
the chief value of the work in the edition before us is to be found in 
the 'real essence' the original work of Volkmann rather than in 
what is added to it by the 'accidents' of editing. The pros- 
pectus leads one to believe that the citations of literature, which 
have always been an important feature of the work, are well up to 
date and very full. Anyone looking for anything of the kind will 
be very much disappointed. .The additions made to the literature 
at the end of the chapters are marked with an asterisk, and they 
turn out to be relatively meagre in the extreme. Having an eye on 
the works in English added to the bibliographies, the inadequacy be- 
comes extraordinary. Looking under Emotion, I find no reference 
to James, nor to the literature which his chapter has called forth. 
Similarly, there is no reference to that author in connection with 
the Innervationsgefiihl. Indeed, the only reference I have come 
across I have not looked over every page, however, with this in 
view to James' 'Principles' is the citation of the title of the book 
in the register of literature at the end. Similarly a search for the 


literature of the writers in England shows the defect about equally 
marked, Ward, Sidgwick, and others being largely overlooked. This 
seems to me to be simply the old case of 'nothing worth know- 
ing outside of my own country,' and it is astonishing that the large 
sale of earlier editions of the work of Volkmann if no other con- 
sideration availed did not lead Prof. Cornelius to have the foreign 
purchaser somewhat in mind. J. M. B. 

Introduction to the Theory of Science and Metaphysics. A. RIEHL. 
Translated by A. FAIRBANKS. London, Kegan Paul, Trench, 
Triibner & Co., 1894. Pp. VIII -f 346. 

It would be hard to find a book in the more recent Kant litera- 
ture of Germany whose translation could be more generally welcome 
to English and American students than Prof. Riehl's ' Science and 
Metaphysics.' The German original of the work forms the con- 
clusion of a larger work, ' Der philosophische Kriticismus und seine 
Bedeutung fur die positive Wissenschaft,' 1 which seems not to be 
generally known in this country or England. The work, however, 
has been influential in Germany, and this translation of its conclud- 
ing part into English is sure to increase its usefulness materially. 
Moreover, Prof. Riehl, unlike many German philosophers whose 
writings have been translated recently, can congratulate himself 
that his book has been rendered into readable English. It should be 
said, however, that Prof. Riehl by his own admirable style, by his 
unfailing clearness and precision, has done more to assist translation 
than some of his compatriots. The German original of the entire 
work was reviewed with greatest care some time ago 2 by Prof. 
Adamson, who paid high tribute to the author's ' completeness of 
knowledge and maturity of philosophical reflection,' and recognized 
the great value of his statement of Kantianism. 

This translation comes at a time when interest in the relation of 
science and metaphysics is reviving, or rather when the relation is 
getting a positive character. Metaphysical philosophy and science 
were not always apart. "The separation," says Prof. Riehl (p. 12), 
"of philosophy and science which has resulted in the regard of them 
as antitheses dates back no further than the period which in Ger- 
many followed Kant This antithesis of philosophy and 

science forms only an isolated episode in the history of thought, 
which to-day appears to be more than a passing phenomenon only 
because it is so near us in time, and which is to be explained from 

1 Leipzig, W. Engelmann, 1887. 

2 Mind, vol. 14, Jan., 1889, pp. 66 ff. 



special causes, namely, the excess of aesthetic culture over scientific 
among the German people." The excess of aesthetic culture helps 
to explain the distinction between phenomena and things-in-them- 
selves, a distinction which in its turn is the explanation of the ex- 
clusion of metaphysics from science. The things-in-themselves or 
noumena, removed . by Kant so absolutely from the sphere of the 
proper activity of the (scientific) reason, became at once the object 
of purely philosophical or non-scientific inquiry. They were neces- 
sary to Kant's system, but it was unfortunate for his criticism, 
doomed to subsequent shocks in history, that he could not be quiet 
about them ; to call attention to them was fatal. Kant, then, 
denied the right of enquiry to metaphysics ; he reduced metaphysics 
to a body of presuppositions ; the inquiring reason could turn only 
to natural science ; but his criticism rather stimulated than con- 
trolled the reason. The first influence of his philosophy was to 
make both philosophy and science extreme, each after its kind, meta- 
physics rising in its flights to all appearances far above the support- 
ing atmosphere of experience, and science becoming ever more 
forgetful of its metaphysical presuppositions. Recent tendencies of 
thought, however, show science actually becoming interested in its 
presuppositions and philosophy returning to something like its old 
character of 'natural philosophy.' But the change only justifies 
Prof. Riehl's declaration of the isolated character of the episode or 
the passing character of the phenomenon which Kant's philosophy 
reports, and one has to wonder that he who saw so clearly could re- 
main so loyal to Kantianism. Yet was he altogether loyal ? 

In regard to Riehl's Kantianism, Prof. Adamson says in the 
review already referred to that the work of Riehl, although in the 
treatment of its subject "characterized by so much freshness and 
originality of conception, so comprehensive an insight into the rela- 
tions of philosophical and scientific problems, and so close a refer- 
ence to the general tenor of modern science, as to render it in no 
sense a mere re-presentation of the work already achieved by Kant," 
is still no real departure from Kant ; ' the form of expression 
is different,' but the difference 'involves no matter of great philo- 
sophical significance,' Critical Realism, only another name for 
Kantianism, being quite as hostile to metaphysical inquiry. But I 
cannot feel that this is altogether fair to Riehl. We may have to 
style him a Kantian, some people depend on epithets, but there 
are tendencies in Riehl's book that are rather treacherous to the 
Critical Philosophy. Thus the Critical Realism rests upon a theory 
of the immediate perception of the external world, and this involves 


a change not to be overlooked of the Kantian conception of scien- 
tific knowledge. 

Riehl's idea of science is truer, I should say, to psychology, with 
its final dependence on introspection, than to ordinary physical or 
objective science ; so that, if we put two and two together, he 
seems to say that the modern 'natural philosophy,' which has arisen 
or is arising with the passing of the antithesis between philosophy 
and science, has a psychological point of view, if not also a psycho- 
logical content. This may be interpreting Riehl to himself as well 
as to others, but present tendencies in philosophy make the interpre- 
tation attractive. For through psychology, especially through 
experimental and comparative psychology, more than through any 
other lines of investigation, science has been brought to a conscious- 
ness of its presuppositions, or at least to a consciousness of the fact 
that it has presuppositions, and this consciousness is entering into 
scientific experience as an all-important factor. Prof. Ladd's recent 
book, 'Philosophy of Mind,' is at least in its ideal true to the 
tendency here indicated. It shows how science, in spite of Kant or 
Kantianism, was doomed to become metaphysically self-conscious as 
soon as it should be well within the sphere of psychology. A sen- 
tence or two from Morgan's 'Introduction to Comparative Psy- 
chology,' a book of perhaps more value for the air that it breathes 
than for the words that it speaks, may be quoted here : 'I do not 
think that the metaphysics of the subject can be avoided in any such 
inquiry [as that of 'mental evolution in all its aspects.'] It is not 
a question of metaphysics or no metaphysics, but of good metaphys- 
ics or bad.' Metaphysics was once the original sin of the human 
reason, whose salvation could come only through the grace of a 
purely non-metaphysical science, but in these days original sin is a 
doctrine, not a fact, and a doctrine as untenable in psychology as in 

In conclusion let me call attention to the most suggestive turn 
that Prof. Riehl gives to Kant's a priori with its criteria of univer- 
sality and necessity. He gives to the a priori a social function in 
experience. He would substitute for the explanation of knowledge 
from the point of view of the individual its explanation through 
society. "I am inclined," he says (p. 66), "to believe that with 
every perception by man is associated the impulse to communicate 
it. Experience is a social concept, not a concept of individual psy- 
chology." The bearing of this upon the psychology of language is 
evident. It also brings psychology and sociology to what is almost 
if not quite an identity. It points the way to relating the psychology 


of Kant at once individualistic and rationalistic to the psychology 
of to-day with its double interest in 'ontogenesis* and 'phylogen- 
esis.' Its special meaning for Riehl appears in later chapters, 
notably in the very valuable chapter on 'Determinism of the Will,* 
Part II, ch. III. A. H. LLOYD. 



(i.) La Sociologie : ses conditions coexistence, son importance scientifique el 
philosophique. M. BERNES. Revue de Metaphysique, Mars, 1895. 

(2.) Sur la mtthode de la sociolcgie. M. BERNES. Revue Philos., 
Mars and Avril, 1895. 

In (i) M. Bernes presents an eminently judicious and philo- 
sophical view of the object and method of sociology, and in (2) he 
applies his principles to a criticism of Durkheim's articles noticed in 
the REVIEW for May. The two dominant characteristics of contem- 
porary sociology are declared to be (a), imitation of natural science 
(especially biology), and (b) absolute opposition to subjective (psy- 
chological) sociology under all its forms, in particular the refusal to 
attribute any role to the reflective will of the members of society. 
These two characteristics are sources of fundamental errors. To 
make sociology purely 'objective* is to deprive it of its essential 
character ; and just in proportion as we make it abstract, objective, 
mathematical, ^are we in danger of leaving out the distinguishing 
mark of intelligent action. To give any meaning to economic, legal 
or political institutions of the past, we have to think ourselves into 
the state of society which they express, to interpret them by internal 
psychological causes. The common fault of both subjective and 
objective sociology is to identify the subjective with the individual ; 
whereas by looking within we may pass the bounds of individuality 
as truly as by looking without. The society of which we form a 
part is within us as truly as we are in it. Sociability, more or less 
conscious, is as truly an element in the social reality of the present 
as is any objective social phenomenon. On the other hand, there is 
no ideal but in relation to a reality already existing ; the existing 
solidarity is the occasion for the subjective practical or moral appre- 
ciation of things or actions which in turn becomes an important fac- 
tor in future development. For society is a 'becoming* as well as 
a thing. Every collective aspiration which by its realization results 
in consolidating the group, in making it at once more complex, more 


plastic, more conscious of itself, becomes thereby a cause of pro- 
gress. In proportion as society is better distinguished from every 
other reality and corresponds better to its definition, in proportion, 
that is, as it creates itself it becomes more completely an object 
of science ; but of a science whose laws are at once objective and 
ideal, expressing relations between what is already in existence and 
that which, while not yet existing, has already begun to be. 

The most important addition made by (2) to the conceptions 
above noted is that of the psychological and social significance of 
action as relating the individual and the social. On the one hand, 
every state of consciousness is already an action, at least by antici- 
pation ; action is a principle of expansion which sets us in some 
fashion outside ourselves, and would cease to be action if we could 
make it entirely individual and internal. Thus by action the psy- 
chological and subjective life takes on already a social value. But, 
on the other hand, action is not wholly comprehended within the 
subjective idea of an internal principle of activity ; it exists only by 
virtue of a sum of objective conditions which give it a body and a 
form, and without which it would be reduced to a mere potenti- 
ality that is, to an abstract and fictitious entity. Action is thus 
the most elementary datum of social psychology. It is the bond 
between subjective and objective, between actual and ideal. It is 
the concrete fact from which these opposing terms are derived. 



Naturgeschichtc des Verbrechers. Grundzilge der criminellen Anthro- 
pologie und Criminal-psychologic. H. KURELLA. Stuttgart, Enke, 
1894. Pp. 284. 

Dr. Kurella, the author of this 'Science of the Criminal,' is the 
medical director of the insane asylum at Brieg, in Silesia, where he 
has had good opportunities for the study of criminals. During ten 
years he has carefully examined many hundreds of cases of insane 
criminals. He has also carefully studied the somewhat abundant 
literature on criminology that has been published during the last 
few years. As a result of his observations and reading he has 
become deeply impressed by the theories of Professor Lombroso of 
Turin, and in his introduction declares his enthusiastic adherence to 
the theory advanced by Lombroso, that there is a certain peculiar 
and distinct type of irreclaimable criminal, described as delinquent^ 
nato, who is, so to speak, fatally predetermined to crime, being the 
genuine born criminal. 


The author thinks that sufficient observations have been made 
and results published to form the basis of a work giving the funda- 
mental principles of criminal anthropology and criminal psychology. 
He believes that such a work will be specially useful to doctors con- 
sulted about criminals, to psychiatrists, judges, and all deeply con- 
cerned with the problem of the treatment of criminals. He there- 
fore proceeds to give a summary of the chief results compiled by 
many recent writers on criminology. He specially mentions Prof. 
Lombroso, Turin ; Prof. E. V. Hofman, Vienna ; Dr. Sommer, 
Allenberg ; Prof. Benedict, Vienna ; Dr. Mingazinni, Rome ; Prof. 
Dr. v. Tschisch, Dorpat ; Dr. J. Karlowicz, Warsaw ; Dr. Wesnic, 
Belgrade. In his register of authors consulted, we find some 162 
names, some of whom have been cited as frequently as thirty-five 
times. A work of 284 pages, giving an epitome of the tabulated 
results of so many writers, cannot be summarized in a brief review. 
To show the need of a more extensive study of criminals, he 
gives a mass of statistics to prove that crime is greatly increasing. 
It occurs to one in reading these statistics to ask, Are these conclu- 
sive evidence of the increase of crime, or of increased vigilance in 
the detection and punishment of crime? Do we mean by 'criminal' 
those who are arrested for crime ? And the suspicion arises that 
statistics are being used uncritically, and that the examination of 
the meaning of 'criminal' is neglected. We think this distrust will 
increase as the reader proceeds. 

I. Criminal Anthropology. The author first treats of anatomical 
peculiarities of criminals. Diagrams and explanations are given of 
methods of craniometry. Tables showing characteristics of crim- 
inals in the general shape of the skull and structure of particular 
parts. Exact measurements corroborate the common suspicion of 
the low and retreating forehead. A list is given of marks of degen- 
eracy or atavism frequently found. A detailed reference is given to 
structural varieties of the following : the ear, breast, sexual organs, 
beard, hair, excess in number of fingers, etc. ; arrested development 
of organs ; acquired characters, e. g., tattooing. 

II. Under 'biological factors,' he discussed nourishment and 
digestion, susceptibility to feeling, motor characteristics. Under 
'Heredity' he gives interesting tables of criminal families through 
several generations (or degenerations!), showing the interconnec- 
tion of nervous diseases, pauperism, alcoholism, insanity, prostitu- 
tion, suicide, etc. The condensation of the book may be judged 
from the fact that, after referring to Dugdale's well-known ' The 
Jukes' as 'the most valuable contribution to criminal heredity,' 


its results are presented in little more than half a page. He next 
discusses the criminal 'milieu.' Then gives a * physiognomy of 
criminals,' with illustrations that remind one of Lavater. In nearly 
every case we notice smallness of head, or at least smallness of the 
fore part of the head. Frequently we see the following : Large 
under jaw and high cheek-bones ; prognathic, platycephalic, ska- 
phocephalic, parietal and occipital regions of skull large with small 
frontal region. Deformities of ears and lips. One particular form 
of ear is regarded as peculiarly indicative of the criminal. It seems 
that Mozart had this 'fatal ear.' His aberration from crime to 
music is explained by saying that this is not the only example of a 
close affinity between genius and degeneration ; adding that the same 
excessive development of the sense of hearing, indicated by the 
extra development of the external ear muscle, is common to the 
musical genius and the burglar who partakes in the plundering in- 
stincts of the carnivora with the necessary accompaniment of acute 

III. Criminal Psychology. The author first discusses the theory 
of 'moral insanity.' He prefers Lombroso's assumption of the born 
criminal delinquente nato having the following peculiarities : 

(i.) Parasitic tendencies very pronounced. (2.) Honor and 
truthfulness, regarded by the author as late products of civilization, 
are utterly lacking in the criminal who reverts to an earlier type. 
(3.) An interesting account is given of the traditions, codes and 
vagabond-slang-langUage of criminals. 

IV. Under moral concepts and passions, he says : There is no 
thought of the future in the criminal ; he acts in accordance with 
the passion of the moment ; consequently all attempts to prevent 
crime by threats or by making an example of convicted offenders 
are futile. The criminal utterly lacks sympathy and pity. He is 
reckless, cruel, lazy ; despises work as beneath his dignity, prides 
himself on being a criminal, craves notoriety, and desires to become 
a 'virtuoso' in crime. The author outlines a psychology of Ethics 
of Criminology, and quite significantly accepts Mr. Herbert Spen- 
cer and Lombroso as his authorities. Everything must be explained 
by feelings. A sentence will indicate the author's standpoint : 
" Now, the most superficial observation of children and no one has 
shown this more clearly than Lombroso will make evident that 
pity and the feeling of right are in the first place acquired, and in 
the congenital lack of these feelings the criminal is like all children " 
(p. 250). It, is a pity the author did not make even a superficial 
examinatisn of children instead of giving us the dicta of Lombroso. 


Would not a very little observation and reflection make evident that 
the child, not being self-conscious, is neither positively selfish nor 
positively unselfish, but simply non-self-ish. Surely the instinctive 
actions of the child would be less incorrectly regarded as social than 
as aggressively anti-social which is the meaning of lack of pity in 
the case of the criminal. We confess that we are deeply disap- 
pointed with the chapter on Criminal Psychology. There seems to 
be evidence of a very slight acquaintance with the general psy- 
chology, psychology of ethics and theory of ethics of the normal 
type ; not only so, but there are references of contempt for those 
branches of study. Yet the author has followed recent discussions 
sufficiently to cast in his lot thus: "The psycho-physiological theory 
of moral conduct, as also of crime, is dependent on the psycho- 
physiological theory of 'affect.' The ordinary psychologist devotes 
altogether too much attention to the examination of the intellectual 
side of consciousness ; the student of criminology cannot thus ignore 
the passive ' affect'" (p. 252). 

In concluding, the author returns to theoretical discussions. He 
says : All scientific inquiries into man's conduct must necessarily 
assume the deterministic theory as the correct one. If there can be 
any scientific account of the criminal's conduct at all, Lombroso's 
theory should not be objected to on the score of its fatalism (p. 263). 

The author describes his work as an outline of methods, results 
and fundamental principles in criminal anthropology and criminal 
psychology. He admits that there are two schools, the Italian 
school, following Lombroso, endeavoring to establish heredity as the 
full explanation of the genuine criminal, whom they term delinquente 
nato ; excluding from the explanation the influence of environment 
and the results of educative forces ; the other, the French school, 
giving a large place to the influence of environment and the signifi- 
cance of educative forces in their explanation of the adult criminal. 

Now, in a general outline of methods and results, we naturally 
expect to see the results and arguments of both sides fairly and 
fully presented, and then a decision given in favor of the one re- 
garded as most satisfactory. But Dr. Kurella announces at the out- 
set that he has adopted Lombroso's position, stands forth as an 
advocate and defender of his assumptions, and then gives tabulated 
results, mainly selected from Lombroso and those writers who agree 
with him. This it seems to us, is not giving an outline of crim- 
inology, but rather the details of a defense of the theory of one 
party of criminologists. Almost anything may be proved in this 
way if one may be allowed to select the facts and neglect everything 


that does not fit the theory espoused. It is significant, too, that 
the cases examined personally by Dr. Kurella were insane criminals. 
Surely we need a more scientific selection under the term * crim- 
inal.' When we examine the accumulation of evidence and argu- 
ment brought forward to establish Lombroso's ' born criminal ' 
delinquente nato we find that it is all based on the examination of 
adult criminals who have become habituated to crime. Lombroso 
and Kurella, viewing these adult (and sometimes insane) criminals 
with settled tendencies and formed habits, conclude that they are 
impervious to social reformatory influences ; then they conclude 
that they must have been at birth incapable of education to good 
habits, fatally predetermined from the first to evil and to evil only. 
Everything in connection with their character is to be explained 
from heredity, nothing allowed to environment and educative efforts. 

This, it seems to us, is a fallacy in the speculative sort which 
Dr. Kurella is fond of deriding. How can they rule out the influ- 
ence of environment and education when, as a matter of fact, these 
criminals have been in an environmemt and under a training towards 
vice ? If these criminals, tabulated, had been in a contrary envi- 
ronment and under proper social influences from birth, and then in 
spite of this became irreclaimable criminals, there might be some 
plausibility in the view that the genuine criminal nature is inborn 
and is utterly incapable of being essentially modified. When it 
comes to Lombroso's theory, however, Dr. Kurella seems to be 
as fatally predetermined to it as the criminal delinquente nato is to 
crime. Bring forward any number of cases of reformation of hard- 
ened criminals, he calmly rejoins : we never denied that ordinary 
criminals might be reclaimed ; these were not criminals delin- 
quente nato. 

In spite of these defects in theory, the work is one that should 
be widely read, not only by those to whom the author appeals, but 
also by psychologists and moralists. It will excite many new 
thoughts, suggest new phases of old problems, and help to indicate 
how wide a field still awaits the trained psychologist and moralist in 
the investigation of the psychology and psychology of ethics of the 


On the N:w Use of Some Older Sciences. CHARLES L. DANA. Re- 
printed from the Medical Record, Dec. 15, 1894. New York, 
Trow Directory Co. Pp. 19. 

Dr. Dana's article is a summary of the results obtained by Lorn- 


broso, Fere, and others, from anthropometric examinations of crim- 
inals. In addition to the well-known facts about the shape of the 
skull and the facial expression, he discusses a number of minor 
marks : the shape of jaw and cheekbone, the ridge along the centre 
of the palate, the shape of the ear, length of third finger, prehensile 
foot, etc. The author differs from the Italian school in classing 
together criminal, insane and neuropathic degeneracy and refusing 
to consider these as different types. From an ethical standpoint 
the presence of these marks of degeneracy in an individual "throws 
an additional responsibility upon him. * * * We do not excuse the 
cripple who attempts to become a sprinter, nor should we excuse 
the morally defective who * * * fail to husband the endowments 
they possess." A few such sentiments as these will go a long way 
toward justifying this science in the eyes of. those who are accus- 
tomed to regard it as an example of fin-de-sihle morbidness. 



// Cervello in relazione con i fenomeni p sic hid. G. MINGAZZINI. 
Turin, Fratelli Bocca, 1895. Pp. 204. 

This interesting study on the morphology of the cerebral hemi- 
spheres of man forms the twenty-second volume in a ' Bibliotheca 
Antropologica-Giuridica,' a series to which the best known of the 
Italian workers in this field have already contributed. The prob- 
lem attacked is the one which dates at least from the days of 
Erisistratus namely, the interpretation of the gyri of the cerebral 

To approach this question properly the comparative anatomy and 
embryology of the primate brain is needed ; and assuming both in- 
terest and knowledge, the author attacks his subject without further 
preface, comparing the foetal human, with the foetal primate brain, 
so far as material will permit. The relation found in the length, 
angle, position and connections of the important sulci is such that, 
in those primates more removed from man, there is far more diver- 
gence from the human type than exists between man and the high- 
est primates. In ontogeny the similarity in development becomes 
less with the increasing age of the individuals, and soon any form 
begins to exhibit those features which are distinctive of it at matu- 
rity. Thus the characters of the cerebral surface in man are not 
superadded to those found in the higher primates when adult, but 
to cerebral features exhibited by them when still in the foetal stage. 


This is a relation which is perfectly familiar and well recognized in 
the case of other organs, but it has never before been thus demon- 
strated for the cerebrum. 

With the data gathered in this chapter, including many tables of 
measurement new and old, the author next attacks the peculiarities 
of the cerebral hemispheres according to sex. The use of foetal 
material brings out the fact that, in the case of the female, the 
seventh to eighth month of foetal life represents a period of accel- 
erated growth for the cerebral fissures. Some fissural variations 
occur which are characteristic for sex. The definite marks are 
slight, however ; and even in the case of the historic question of the 
relative development of the frontal lobes, the evidence is still incon- 
clusive. As regards race differences, there is little to be said, since 
the only way in which peculiarities of fissuration according to race 
can be given a value is by estimating the relative frequency of their 
occurrence ; and at present the material available from non-Euro- 
pean races is too small to warrant a statistical use of it. M. sug- 
gests that the brain in the inferior races is wont to show with unusual 
frequency variations indicating arrested development ; but even if 
unduly frequent, such arrest is certainly slight. When the brains of 
eminent men are compared with those of persons with average intel- 
ligence, the former are found to be more amply developed. The 
third frontal gyrus contributes to this difference, and the variations 
are in this locality particularly noticeable. It is to be remarked, 
however, that just this gyrus is one of the last to be completed, 
and any differences in growth would therefore be most easy 
to detect ; whereas changes of the same kind occurring at other 
localities might be more readily overlooked. In cases where the 
head has been deformed, there are but few records concerning the 
brain surface. The studies of Ambialet on the ' Deformation toulou- 
saine* being by far the most important. In such instances the effect 
of deformation is both general, causing an incompleteness in the 
later formation of the gyri and local, as indicated by the fact that, 
along the line of the constricting band, the arrest is most marked. 
Most instructive is the author's chapter on the criminal brain, since 
the data for comparison, in the form of well-constructed tables of 
measurements, are very full. When thus examined the criminal 
brain exhibits no features which are typical. Among the brains of 
criminals are to be found some which show an arrest of fissural devel- 
opment, but more than this cannot be said. It may be added that the 
theory of confluent sulci and theromorphic fissuration are again left 
without support ; and the contention of Benedikt, that such were 


the characters of the criminal brain, is as completely refuted by this 
last study as it already has been by the previous studies of Giacomini, 
Eberstaller and Cunningham. 

In reviewing the condition of the hemispheres in the in